Angel In The Dirt, Book One: Break Me
by Debwood-1999
Summary: With his retirement all but a reality, Jay returns home to the Wyatt compound to begin the next chapter of his life. But, before he can do that, he must confront his past, recover from his traumas, and accept the reality of how his attachment to the Wyatts came to be. Luke/Jay, OC's. A continuation of sorts of theytalktome's Wyatt one-shots, and Book One in a series.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I've found a new obsession in the form of the Eater Of Worlds. Yes, it's the Wyatt Family, arguably one of the best things the WWE has come out with in years. **

**A little background for this one; it's a continuation (sort of) of a series of stories written by theytalktome on FFDN (AKA valiumforaviper on Deviant Art, AKA ItsBeckettBitch on Twitter), featuring Luke Harper and Jay (Christian) as the main pair. Don't worry, I asked permission and made sure I got it first before putting ANY of this down. Avatar/book cover is courtesy of nerii5963 on Deviant Art, and it is used with permission as well. Sermons, promos, etc, are courtesy of a great site called cagematch dot net, which contains tons of promo transcripts.**

**There's a lot of flashbacks and POV in this story, so I've tried very hard to make things easy to follow.**

**SIDEBAR: I'm not on the bandwagon of writing someone as evil outside the ring just because they're portrayed as heels in the ring. The Wyatts are a complex and fascinating group in and out of the ring, and I hope I can write them as such in this story. So, without further adieu...**

_**Angel In The Dirt  
By Debwood-1999**_

_**Chapter One**_

_"The 3 things that pro wrestlers become after ring work over. They are - become a preacher, do bad standup (comedy). And bitch that they did not get used right !" _

_Dusty Rhodes via Twitter_

(JAY POV)

_I guess I should start this story the day after Wrestlemania 30. I was still angry over being excluded from the card, but Bray convinced me that it was a blessing in disguise. And he was right, as usual. After seeing what happened with poor Damien Sandow, I was actually _relieved_ to sit things out. _

_Anyway, the day after Wrestlemania 30, Bray, Luke and Erick faced John Cena, Sheamus and Big E. in a six-man tag team match. The Wyatts won after Bray planted Big E. into the canvas with the finishing move he named after Sister Abigail. I was surprised at how much the crowd was behind them. It was obvious that the bloom had come off the rose long ago where John Cena and his band of Homogenized Funsters was concerned. The WWE Universe wanted something new and different...and the Wyatts fit the bill._

_To be honest, Wrestlemania 30 was when I finally saw the writing on the wall. After over two decades of putting my body on the line for the entertainment of the masses, it was time for me to step away. I'd taken my career as far as Vince McMahon would allow it to go, and now it was time for me to cut him loose and take the next step in my life journey._

_The only problem was that I'd have to leave everyone that I loved behind._

_Everyone thinks that Bray Wyatt is a monster. And that's right. He is one, and he can be exceptionally cruel. But he's also the bravest man I know. He's a monster because he's willing to go toe to toe with this world and take the fight to those who thumb their noses at him. And if he's being cruel, it's only because he loves you. Sometimes, like that Nick Lowe song goes, you gotta be cruel to be kind. _

_I should know all about Bray's cruelty. If it wasn't for him and his cruelty, I wouldn't be writing this. I'd be six feet under._

_In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm part of the Wyatt family. _

_And brace yourselves...Luke Harper is my lover. _

_It's been that way for the better part of a year. Joining the Wyatts wasn't by choice at first. I screamed and kicked and fought at every turn. But after a while I realized that I was part of the family for a reason. _

_A year ago, I was planning to kill myself. Bray, Luke, and Erick literally pulled me off the ledge I was planning to jump off of. They made me realize that I really didn't _want _to end my life. I wanted someone to _save me. _The Wyatts saved me. Though it wasn't in the way that I'd imagined. _

_Everyone thinks that Bray's message is nothing but a pack of lies, and the ravings of a lunatic mind, and that all he and his family want to do is watch the world burn down. And yeah, that's right too. He wants to watch this world burn...the same way a farmer watches his spoiled crops burn so that they rise up again. This world, this poisoned, sick, twisted world must be burned down so that it can be reborn, into something more vibrant and godly._

_Everyone in the WWE Universe assumes that everything Bray and his followers do is for themselves. Well, that's where they're wrong. _

_Bray does what he does for the children. Children are the foundation of what tomorrow brings. Their eyes and ears are open, and so are their minds. And they can separate the truth from the lies. Get them early, teach them true, and there's no stopping them. _

_Bray does what he does for the poor man that stands day and night begging on the side of the street starving because the masses didn't think he was smart enough to eke out an existence in this world. He does this for the teenage girl who wakes up crying very morning when she looks in the mirror because they didn't think she was beautiful enough to be the prom queen. _

_Bray Wyatt does this for each and every one of you._

_All you gotta do is stand by the Eater of Worlds and believe, and you'll never be alone. Stand with him and believe, and you won't remember him as a liar or a lunatic, but you'll remember Bray Wyatt for what he really is: _

_An angel in the dirt._

(END JAY POV)

~~~ANGEL~~~

Jay twined his fingers through Luke's hair and rested his hands at the back of the younger man's head. "Do I really have to go back home tomorrow? I'd like to spend some more time with you."

"You have to," Luke told him, gently. He and Jay were back in their hotel room following the RAW taping. Erick and Bray had gone out for a quick bite to eat, leaving the two of them to spend some quiet time with each other. "Bray says it's the next part of your life journey. In order for you to spread his message properly, you have to immerse yourself in the culture, get acquainted with everyone. And what better place to start than back home?"

"He does have a point. And I of all people should understand the rigors of this business. This is your job, you _have_ to go. But not traveling with you for a while...just feels kinda weird."

"What's weird about it? The fact that you're going back home, or that Bray and Erick and I are going without you?"

"Neither of those, really," Jay admitted. "It's weird in the sense that Vince is all crazy about the three of you, and he hates my guts."

"The way he treats you? He can go piss up a flagpole as far as I'm concerned." Luke shrugged. He and Jay broke up laughing. When the mirth died down somewhat, he added, "Don't tell him I said that."

"I won't."

A pause. "I'm not ready, Luke." Jay sighed, resting his head in the hollow of Luke's shoulder. He inhaled, breathing in his lover's scent. He liked how Luke smelled; like wood smoke and leaves, faint musk and slight sweatiness. If Jay could stay here all day, he would. "I haven't finished the Seven Diamonds Plus One study. I have so many questions I want answers to, and not enough time to ask them. It'll take me years before I'm even_ close_ to Bray's level of understanding."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Bray's light years ahead of you, and he _still_ asks a lot of questions."

"I just don't wanna seem like I don't know what I'm talking about."

"You'll do fine."

"You think so? Or is Bray just blowing smoke in my face?"

"I _know _so. Bray knew from the moment he first lay eyes on you that you were destined for something special."

_Bray knew from the moment he first lay eyes on you that you were destined for something special._ The words had been pounded into Jay's head so much, that he couldn't find a reason _not_ to believe them. They'd given him a purpose, a motivation, a life.

"You're wearing your necklace," Luke grinned, running his big fingers across the hematite Zuni bear that dangled from its cord at Jay's throat. He'd given Jay the necklace as a Christmas gift. It was nothing fancy or expensive, but what it meant to the older blonde made it priceless.

"I never take it off." Jay grinned back. A sly look entered his eyes as he let his fingers glide up his lover's massive chest. Luke sensed Jay's intentions and arched a glossy eyebrow. "Perhaps we should get a bit more...comfortable?"

"I thought we were comfortable enough already," Luke shrugged, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Well.." Jay slipped his hands beneath Luke's flannel shirt in an effort to remove it. "I thought since you and the others are heading out tomorrow, that you and I could give each other a parting gift. And if we do that, then we should get _very, very_ comfortable."

"You do have a point," Luke chuckled as Jay removed his vest and eased him down onto the bed...

~~~ANGEL~~~

_You feed the fire that burned us all  
When you lie  
To feel the pain that spurs you on  
Black inside_

_No one plans to take the path that brings you lower  
And here you stand before us all and say it's over  
It's over_

"_Your Decision," By Alice In Chains_

Jay sighed and pried his eyes open. Dammit. Middle of the night and he was suddenly wide awake. It didn't happen often, but when it did, Jay ended up cranky and irritable in the morning because he couldn't get back to sleep._ Well, since I'm awake, _he thought in slight annoyance, _I might as well get up. Maybe if I went outside for a walk, I'll feel a little better. _

He glanced over at his lover, who lay on his side, completely down for the count. Luke looked too peaceful to wake up, so Jay climbed out of bed, wincing slightly. The fact that Luke had driven a truck before joining the Wyatts wasn't the only reason why he had the nickname of Big Rig, and Jay chuckled to himself at the thought.

After throwing on some underwear, some pants, a shirt and his shoes, Jay dashed off a quick note for Luke before grabbing his card key and heading out of the room.

The lobby was quiet, and Jay made his way outside rather quickly. The street he was on was remarkably quiet this time of night; Jay half expected it to be jumping with excitement and activity, especially with it being the middle of travel season. No matter. Jay actually appreciated the peace and quiet. It gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts.

These days, suicide was the last thing on Jay's mind. It was a selfish act and an unforgivable sin, and whenever Jay thought of how close he'd come to taking his own life, he shuddered. His life was too valuable to literally throw it out a window. Thank God (and Sister Abigail) for bringing the Wyatts into his life when he needed them the most, though he'd been kicking and screaming when he first encountered them.

Jay glanced around and noticed that he'd walked much further than he'd intended. He chuckled and shook his head as he stopped to rest. _How'd I wind up on the banks of the Mississippi?_ he wondered silently, sitting down on a metal bench that looked out over the water. _I need to pay more attention to where I'm going!_

It was so quiet and peaceful. The New Orleans skyline twinkled like gemstones set against black velvet. A cool breeze ruffled through Jay's hair. To Jay's right was the Crescent City Connection Bridge that arched across the water, connecting US Hwy 90 from the central business district to the residential parts of the city. No boats were out on the water, and the only sound Jay could hear was the flowing of the river. _So peaceful,_ Jay thought, crossing his feet and stretching out his wiry frame so as to make himself more comfortable.

He didn't know how long he sat there taking in the scenery, but a nagging voice in his mind told him that he needed to get back soon. Jay yawned, his eyes squeezing into slits, before he climbed off the bench and began his trek back to the hotel.

As Jay headed back the way he came, he was suddenly aware of a roaring sound that reminded him of the surf back in Florida. There was no possible way that the surf was up, perhaps a boat was on it's way down the river? Curiosity got the better of Jay, and he turned around to look.

He suddenly wished that he hadn't.

The sound he heard was the roar of a giant rogue wave. It rumbled and rushed at Jay, a moving wall of white-capped water. Panic slammed through Jay, and every nerve in his body screamed RUN! He turned back and tore down the street, his heart racing, and his pulse pounding as he attempted to flee.

_Faster...FASTER! _Jay was running as fast as he'd ever run, but the wall of water continued to pursue him. Suddenly, he got tangled up in his own feet, and he crashed to the pavement in an undignified heap. Frantic, he tried to stumble to his feet, but they wouldn't cooperate.

Gasping for breath, Jay glanced up and felt his heart sink to his stomach. The wave was right on top of him.

The mountain of water crashed over Jay, so cold that it felt like a thousand knives were being driven into his body. The sheer weight and magnitude of the water forced out what little air was left in his lungs. Pain and panic set in as Jay struggled to breathe, to pull some precious air into his body, but all that surrounded him was water. A cold rush slammed through Jay like a skewer and his body began to shut down...

...And Jay sat up in bed, gasping for breath, his heart racing. The nightmare felt so vivid and intense that he could almost feel the cold water on his skin. He wrapped the blankets around his body and willed his heartbeat and pulse to slow down. _Thank God that was only a dream_, he thought, raking his fingers through his sleep and sex rumpled hair.

By force of habit, Jay glanced over to the other side of the bed. His heart sank when he found it empty. Then he remembered the conversation he and Luke had the night before and he shook his head at his forgetfulness. "You're losing your mind in your old age, Jay," he thought out loud, glancing over to the nightstand. There was a piece of paper with Jay's name on it sitting there, waiting to be read:

_Jay - _

_Didn't want to wake you up. We're heading to the Smackdown taping. Bray's sent someone to fetch you to take you home. They should be here around eight. Have a safe trip._

_Love, Luke._

Jay set the note down and lay back down on the bed. A year ago, home would have been a perfect house in Florida with years worth of memorabilia and his cats. No outside job, no family, no friends to catch up with, no other interests. Just him, his cats, and an excruciating depression that would have killed him had nobody intervened.

Nobody understood his attachment to the Wyatts, and it was likely that nobody ever would. He'd heard the whispers and snide remarks backstage: _Can you believe it? Jay Reso and Luke Harper are an item! What does Jay see in that overgrown freak? Well, maybe it's not outside the realm of possibility. After all, Reso's mental state's been suspect for years. If you have more than two cats, you're a little touched in the head. That's what they say anyway. And the only reason he got a job here is because his best friend got him a tryout._

Jay felt his heart ache slightly as he recalled the last conversation he'd had with Adam, his former best friend and brother from another mother. He was at the Hall of Fame ceremony to induct Lita, another longtime (and now former) friend. After the festivities, Adam and Jay went to a coffee shop near the hotel they were staying at to catch up on old times. It was then that Jay finally laid things on the line with his longtime friend.

While Adam's career zoomed, Jay's had stagnated, and it was that fact that gradually pulled them apart. It was only when the Wyatts had taken him that he finally faced-unwillingly at first-his jealousy and anger and depression. Of course Bray's methods had been unorthodox, but he did more in the course of a few weeks to fix Jay than months or years of therapy ever could.

Adam, of course, didn't understand, and deep down Jay knew that he wouldn't...

(FLASHBACK)

"What the hell are you thinking, Jay? You've sold your house, you re-homed all of your cats—you're giving up twenty years in this business just so you can join a cult?!"

"It's not a cult!" Jay tried to explain, leaning up against the rental car. "It's my home. For the first time in years, I actually have a home, and people who love me. You and Chris, Dreamer, Styles, everyone...they all get to come home to a family, or a business, or friends, or other projects. You know what I came home to when I got off the road? An empty suitcase and my cats. That's what!

"I spent the better part of my two decades in this business giving and giving and giving. I busted my ass for Vince McMahon and everyone else in this industry. I did everything I could to try and prove to everyone who seemed to care that I was worthy of their attention. And I spent that time being everyone's friend, caretaker, rock, compass, counselor, whatever the hell anyone needed me to be, I was. And what did I get in return? NOTHING! I had nothing left to give _myself,_ let alone all of you."

Jay paused, and his voice softened. "The Wyatts, they...they gave me a purpose. They gave me direction. They gave me love. Luke especially. He's got the patience of a saint. And he nursed me back to health and sanity when I needed it the most."

"HARPER?" Adam looked at his longtime friend like he'd just spoken in Arabic. "That overgrown, hairy-faced freak? What'd he do to you? What did he and Bray and Erick do to you?"

"That overgrown, hairy-faced freak is someone I love very, very much!" Jay fired back, angrily. "And if you must know, Bray and Luke and Erick loved me enough to take control and keep me from making the biggest mistake of my life."

"Biggest mistake? The biggest mistake you made was not pressing kidnapping charges against Bray Wyatt and his band of kooks!"

Jay smacked the hood of the rental. _"NO! My biggest mistake was wanting to kill myself!"_

The words dropped between Jay and Adam like bricks. Two sentences. Nine words. It was enough to change everything.

"Kill yourself? That's preposterous, why would you want to go and do a dumb thing like that?!" Adam exclaimed, in shock. "That's got to be a sick joke! You couldn't possibly want to do that! You can't be serious..." Adam's voice trailed off when he saw the somber look on his longtime friend's face. A cold numbness spread through his body. "No...no, don't tell me you were even _thinking_ about that!" Adam whispered, pacing back and forth. "You've always been the stable one, why would you even think of offing yourself?"

Jay shrugged, sarcastically. "I don't know. Maybe the years of being called ugly, irrelevant, worthless, and unimportant finally caught up to me."

Adam gently placed his hands on Jay's shoulders. His voice was soft and full of disbelief. "Jay...my god, you're none of those things-"

"_Tell that to Vince McMahon and upper management and the rest of Vince's Bullying Funsters!" _Jay exclaimed, shrugging away from his best friend's grasp. "I'm not gonna go into details, but long story short, I was planning to jump out of my hotel window in Baltimore. July of last year. Then Jericho invited me to breakfast, and I went. I had a good time, and later I decided to lace my boots up one last time and give the fans one more match. One last happy memory because I wanted the fans to remember me for something good. Afterwards, Bray found me...you can figure out the rest."

Adam shook his head as he paced the length of the rental car. The very idea that Jay, his friend for nearly three decades, the man he loved like a brother, was hurting so much that he'd wanted to die was almost impossible to get his head around. "Jay...God! Jay I didn't know," Adam gasped, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why didn't you say anything? You could have talked to a therapist, or gone to Vince-"

"Vince McMahon never gave a fuck about me!" snarled Jay. "He wouldn't have helped me. He probably would have shoved me out the window himself, and then put out some insincere press release and move on like I never existed! Don't take this the wrong way, Addy, but the only reason why I was treated half decent here was because of you. I owe you so much, Addy, and I'll always appreciate that. But once you retired, everything went downhill." Jay wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at the pavement. His voice was thick with emotion as well. "Nobody-nobody backstage, nobody in management, no agents, no friends, _nobody!_-was brave enough to stick up for me. I was at the mercy of Vince McMahon, and _it tore me apart."_

Adam sat on the hood of the rental next to his longtime friend, completely devastated by the confessions he was hearing. "I'm...I'm so sorry-"

"You don't need to apologize for anything. No sense in apologizing after the fact either, Addy. What's done is done. You and Chris and Dreamer and all of them, you have your own lives now. And I have my own now as well, odd as it may be."

"Life? You call what you're doing now _life?" _Adam knew deep down that he had to tread delicately over this next topic, and he chose his words carefully. "Jay...Luke and Bray and Erick...there's no easy way to say this, but they're _criminals_. You _have_ to press charges against them. What they did to you was against the law! They _kidnapped_ you. They held you hostage and brainwashed you. You know that, I know that, everyone around you knows that too, though they don't say anything. The Wyatts kept you prisoner for _three months._ Just because Luke tucked you into bed a few times doesn't mean he that he loves you!"

He continued, unaware of the venomous look Jay had just given him. "Jay, everyone sees the Wyatts for what they really are, and here you are, like some lovesick little puppy falling all over yourself to protect them. It's not love, it's not loyalty, and it's not life, it's Stockholm Syndrome! They brainwashed you! There's no other way to describe it!"

"_It's not Stockholm Syndrome, and they didn't brainwash me!_ _The Wyatts saved my life!" _Jay spat in fury. Why couldn't anyone (Adam especially) understand that what the Wyatts did to him was done out of love? "And Luke took care of me every step of the way, when I was at my lowest and most broken, he helped heal me! He bathed me, he dressed me, he made sure I ate, he held me at night when I cried, which wasn't very often, and he held me, even when I didn't cry. And more importantly, he made sure I knew I was loved. He protected me, he loved me, and he _still_ loves me!" Jay paused, and his expression grew wistful. "And _I love him._ For the first time in years, I'm actually _happy._ I have a purpose, I have a life, I have people in my life who genuinely care about me. I thought you'd be happy for me, or at least try to support me and understand. Out of everyone in my life, Addy, I thought _you'd_ be the one."

Adam shook his head, his voice honest. "I can't support this, Jay. I'm sorry. The man sitting next to me is Jay, but it's not Jay. The man sitting with me looks like you, he talks like you, all his mannerisms are the same, but he's not you. We've been friends, almost brothers, for the past three decades, I thought I knew everything about you, but now...you've changed so much, inside and out, that I...I don't know you anymore."

"Maybe you never knew me at all," Jay said, simply. He paused, his heart aching. What he was about to say would be the hardest words he'd ever have to utter. "Addy, you're my brother from another mother, and you'll always have a place in my heart. But if you aren't willing to support me, or at least _try_... then I'm afraid we can't be friends anymore."

Adam felt like he'd just been hit with a board. His voice got stuck in his throat, and he was barely able to choke out, "Jay..."

Before Adam could say anything more, Jay reached up and cupped his face. "I love you, Addy," he said, kissing Adam gently on the cheek, and then on the lips. Jay's voice was husky and Adam could hear the tears in his voice. "That'll never change. But it's over." He paused, and then he ran the tips of his fingers gently across the cheek of his best friend. "I want you to turn around and count to one hundred."

"Count to one hundred? Why?"

One sentence. Nine words. Enough to end everything:

"I don't want you to see me walk away..."

(END FLASHBACK)

A lump rose in Jay's throat as he replayed his and Adam's last conversation. In reality, he'd given up on Adam, as well as Chris, Dreamer, AJ, and everyone else long ago. They really _hadn't_ cared about him. He'd been such a rock for all of them that they'd taken him for granted, and that spawned his depression and resentment. It wasn't that he no longer cared about them. It was that they no longer cared about _him_. That revelation made it easier for Jay to give up on them.

It didn't make giving up on his old friends hurt any less, but the pain faded more and more with each passing day.

Jay climbed out of bed and put on his pants, which had been dropped on the floor last night while he and Luke were..._getting comfortable._ No sense dwelling on what was and what used to be. It was time to wash up, get dressed and packed.

Perhaps after washing up, he could do some studying while he waited for his ride to arrive. Bray's last lesson about the Seven Diamonds Plus One had been very enlightening, and it left Jay wanting to learn more about it. After all, it was the subject that Bray had wanted him to teach. He fumbled through his suitcase and carry-on in search of the book he'd packed with him. _Final Quest, Final Quest, I know I packed it-_

His search was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Jay glanced up, the search for his book abandoned. "Hold on a second," he called out, searching for the t-shirt he'd worn the day before. He found it under the bed and slipped it on before he threw open the door. "Uh...hi?"

Standing in the doorway was a pair of identical twin girls. One of them wore a red t-shirt and jeans, and the other wore a black t-shirt and jeans. They were rather tall and slender like ballerinas, and both of them were pretty. Their hair was long and blonde, so blonde it was almost white, and their eyes were almond shaped and a soft blue, like a pair of faded jeans. Briefly, Jay wondered if the two of them were ring rats, and was about to turn them down politely (he didn't swing that way), until one of them-the one in the black t-shirt—spoke:

"Hi, you must be Jay. Bray told us to come and fetch you." Her voice sounded the same way a candied pear might taste. You had to be born hock-deep in hominy grits to get a drawl like hers.

"Bray?" Jay shook his head and stared bewildered at the twins. The fog of sleep was beginning to lift from Jay's mind, and he remembered the note that Luke had left on the nightstand. "Oh, I remember now."

"Yeah. Bina (she pronounced it Beena) and I, we live on the compound with Momma and our brothers. The boys have the Smackdown taping tonight, and since you didn't have anything scheduled, Bray asked Bina and me to come fetch you and take you home." The talkative twin held out a hand in greeting. Jay didn't shake the slim hand, but the girl didn't seem to pay attention. "I'm Violet Beth Pollard, but everyone calls me Violet."

"Hi. Who's Bina?"

"My sister," Violet explained, glancing over to her twin, who was looking down at the floor. Gently, she said, "Bina, it's okay. Jay won't hurt you. And Bray said we have to take him home." Bina shook her head. Violet continued. "It's okay. Bina's kinda shy of talking to people she doesn't know very well."

Bina lifted her head cautiously and studied Jay like he was a cloud formation she'd never seen before.

Jay let a kindly smile spread slowly across his face. "Hi. I'm Luke's..." He was about to say _lover, _but he stopped himself. Something about the shy blonde girl told Jay that she was _different_. Not retarded or slow or anything like that. But she wouldn't understand the context of _lover_ in this instance. "I'm Luke's special friend."

A full half-minute of uncomfortable silence passed between the three of them. Finally, Bina let out a scream, and her face broke into a megawatt smile. Before anyone else could speak, the shy blonde threw herself at Jay and wrapped her arms around him, practically tackling him as she barged through the doorway and into the room. Violet, with a beleaguered look on her pretty face, brought up the rear, closing the door behind her.

"Look, Violet! It's an angel!" Bina squeaked, the joy rolling off her in waves. She gazed up at the unofficially retired wrestler in wonder. "You're Luke's Angel! Luke talks about you all the time. He calls you his Angel Boy. Oh, by the way, I'm Verbina Jane Pollard, and I'm an Aspie, but everyone calls me Bina, and so should you."

"Uh...okay." Jay wasn't sure how to handle such an introduction. "Aspie?"

"Bina has Asperger's Syndrome," Violet explained. "It's a form of autism. She has some developmental issues and she has trouble socializing. There's a lot of other things that go with it, but those are the two main ones." A pause, and then Violet cautiously approached her sister. "Bina, you gotta let go of Jay. He has to wash up and get dressed and packed. I'll turn on the TV, and you can watch the Weather Channel."

With a whine, Bina reluctantly let go of Luke's special friend and let her sister guide her to one of the beds in the room. "But he looks fine. Just has to put on some shoes. And I don't like Weather Channel. They don't have weather on anymore. Find something else."

Violet got her sister situated in front of the TV. After thumbing through the program guide, they both settled on CNN. Jay watched the girls with amusement and then stepped into the bathroom to wash up. "Make yourselves comfortable," he told the girls before he stepped into the shower and turned the water on. "I shouldn't be too long."

And he was right about that. Jay was out of the shower, dressed, and packed in less than half an hour (he traveled light these days, and he wasn't the type to primp every five minutes), and he and the twins were out of the hotel fifteen minutes after that.

Violet's car was a big, blue twenty year old Buick in need of a wash. After stowing Jay's suitcase and carry-on in the trunk, Violet climbed behind the wheel, and Jay slid into the passenger's seat. Bina curled up in the backseat like a little girl preparing to take a nap, and soon they were on the road.

"Omigod, are the rumors true? Are you really going to retire?" Violet asked, as she wove the big car through mid-morning traffic. "I know you've been getting hurt and all, but I thought you'd have at least one more title run in you before you decided to call it quits."

"I've had a chance to rethink some priorities," Jay said, simply. "I mean, I've been in the business the better part of two decades, so what's left for me? Besides, I need to step away for a while."

"I can only imagine what your retirement speech will sound like. I'll be bawling like a baby when I hear it I'm sure. It's sad that you're leaving, but I hope your friends will give you a nice send-off."

"I can only hope. Vince would rather show me the door without any fanfare and then put out a press release two days later wishing me success in my future endeavors. The rumors about Vince McMahon never liking me...unfortunately, they aren't rumors."

"What?" Bina looked incredulous. "But you're an angel. Why would someone hate an angel?"

"Because there are some people who are mean to others just for the sake of being mean."

"Momma says those are the people who need angels the most," Bina said, matter-of-fact. She glanced out the window and tensed up. Violet had just swung the car into a Walmart parking lot. "Why are we stopping?"

"We haven't eaten yet. There's a McDonald's here and we can pick up breakfast. And we should get some things to snack on for the trip. It's a four-hour drive home."

"I can't go in there!" Bina shook her head, averting her eyes. "Violet, it's loud, I don't wanna go in there!"

"Bina, we have to eat," Violet admonished her twin, gently, as she parked the car. "We won't be in there too long, and you can't stay in the car by yourself. It's already getting hot outside."

_"Noooo,"_ Bina moaned, shaking her head. "I don't wanna go. Don't make me go! Don't wanna! _Don't wanna! Don't wanna!"_

By this time, Bina was trembling violently and clutching her head as she rocked back and forth. She was like a three year-old throwing a tantrum, but Jay knew a little bit about autism. Many people with the condition had issues with sensory overload. A simple trip to the store would be traumatic; the simple hustle and bustle of a store and its shoppers would sound and feel like a stampede of elephants, leaving them so overwhelmed, they'd shut down to protect themselves.

While watching Bina tremble on the verge of a meltdown, Jay suddenly had an idea. "Violet, pop open the trunk," he instructed her, as he climbed out of the car. "I think I have something that'll help your sister."

Jay zipped open the front pocket of his carry-on bag and fumbled through it until he pulled out a hard plastic case. He opened up the case, revealing a pair of earplugs, which he handed off to Violet, who had climbed into the backseat to comfort her sister. "Stick these in Bina's ears," he instructed her before he closed the trunk lid.

It took Violet almost ten minutes to persuade Bina to take her hands off her ears and another five to convince her to put the earplugs in. Jay marveled at how patient Violet was with her sister; he wasn't sure how he'd be able to handle the situation. "I've been her shadow for as long as I can remember," Violet explained, answering the unspoken question as she climbed out of the car. "Some people are born with infinite patience, and some aren't. I'm one of the lucky ones."

Jay nodded in agreement. He could appreciate infinite patience. Luke was blessed with it as well.

The effect of the earplugs on Bina was quite swift. She gazed around in wonder, her eyes impossibly wide; any wider, and she'd look like an anime drawing. "My ears, they don't hurt anymore."

"Why did I not think to pack earplugs?" Violet admonished herself, shaking her head. She paused, and then ventured cautiously, "Bina, are you ready to get out of the car now?"

Bina glanced around nervously. "I'm...I'm not sure I can," she stammered, and for a moment, she, Violet, and Jay stood or sat around in slightly awkward silence, unsure of what to do next.

It was Jay that came up with another solution. He hunkered down in front of Violet's nervous twin and smiled gently at her. "Well..." he suggested. "How about all of us going in together. I'll even hold your hand, okay?"

Bina pondered the suggestion, and then she let a smile spread across her face. Momma always told her that angels were good, and they protected and helped people. And since Jay was Luke's Angel, well who was she to argue? Besides, she liked the idea of an real, live angel holding her hand. "Okay," she chirped like a little girl, holding out her hand so that Jay could help her out of the car. "Violet, can I have an Egg McMuffin? And I want peanut butter cheese crackers for the trip home..."

The three of them finally made their way into the store. Bina practically skipped along as she held Jay's hand to the point where it almost hurt. Jay didn't mind; in fact, he almost welcomed the discomfort. It helped him get his mind off of the fact that he was entering a wide-open space.

It was almost impossible to think that one of the greatest superstars in WWE history was agoraphobic. But then again, being chained to the floor in the middle of a cold, dark garage without any sort of shelter for days on end can do that to a man.

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Jay's experience with the Wyatt's was NOT hearts and flowers. It was brutal, it was visceral, and it forced Jay to face some things that he didn't want to face. In spite of the good it did him, it still left him DAMAGED. Agoraphobia isn't the only thing he'll have to deal with. Can anyone say PTSD?**

**The twins are Violet and Verbina Pollard. If the names sound familiar, they're from Dean Koontz's book **_**The Bad Place.**_** They're the twins by name and description only, and they AREN'T creepy. **

**REVIEWS = LOVE**


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: PBBBT! (Blows a raspberry) Looks like it's gonna be Brock Vs Cena at Summerslam for the Main Event this year. I'm getting my tix now and heading to Los Angeles...NOT! And the WWE wonders why the fans can't stand their product right now. IMHO, John Cena (the character, not the real-life guy) is a homogenized fraud that gets shoved down our throats too many times.**

**To those who are checking out this story, a big THANKS. I'd love to get some more readership for this, so if you can spread the word, that would be greatly appreciated!:)**

_**Chapter Two**_

"_I was amazed as people must be who are seized and kidnapped, and who realize that in the strange world of their captors they have a value absolutely unconnected with anything they know about themselves."_

Lives of Girls and Women, by Alice Munro

For the first time in many years, Jay was actually feeling emotions other than unease or despair at the prospect of going home.

Before his experience with the Wyatts, he'd gotten to the point where he dreaded it. While his friends-Edge, Jericho, Styles, and others-had friends, or family, or business ventures or other interests to fall back on, all Jay had was an empty suitcase and his beloved cats. He'd spend his days off holed up in his house, drinking until he passed out and miring in self-pity. He was irrelevant. Ugly. Unlovable. Lonely. Worthless.

It wasn't that Jay had become selfish over the years-he'd spent so many years being the sensible, responsible one looking out for everyone else, that it had become second nature to him-it was that the responsibility of being an unwavering compass and resilient caretaker for his co-workers had chipped away at him. He'd spent so much time and effort giving to others, that there had been nothing left for himself. His desire to be respected, loved, and successful had left him disillusioned, bitter and, by the time the Wyatts had taken him, suicidal. Only when he'd been broken down to his lowest and darkest did he finally allow himself to be taken care of and be healed inside and out.

Now, as he reclined in the front seat of the car watching the scenery whiz by, he thought about what he was coming home to and what and who he was now. Home was a white, weathered two-story farmhouse house in the Louisiana backwoods, and a collection of shacks hidden away in the woods that were used to conduct lessons and to preach sermons and to administer discipline when needed. It wasn't a perfect house in Florida with with countless memories and his cats. He'd sold his home, placed his memorabilia in secure storage and re-homed his beloved fur babies (They wouldn't last a day where he was living now, so he knew he'd done right by them). His family was a collection of religious oddballs whose main mantra was to obey. His main interest now that he was unofficially retired was to spread Bray's message to those willing (or unwilling) to hear it.

And he had someone who loved him, even when he was at his most unlovable. Luke had nursed Jay back to a semblance of health and sanity. The old Jay came back. Actually, it was more like a new Jay, one who'd been broken into pieces and reassembled into something different. Someone different. Someone important. Someone who was loved. Loveable. Valuable. Beautiful.

But the journey to that point had been, for lack of a better word, hellish:

(FLASHBACK)

Jay groaned and awoke to a volcano of pain erupting in his head. His eyelids were gritty, and he had a bad taste in his mouth. He felt something hard against his cheek, and he could smell dust, mustiness, smoke, sweat, blood, and other things he didn't dare try to identify. He could hear rain falling, and thunder rolling in the distance.

_What the hell?_ he wondered, prying his eyes open. The last thing he remembered was walking down the hall on the way outside to his rental. After that, it was a blur. _What happened? Did I get mugged or something?_

The first thing Jay noticed when he fully opened his eyes was the complete, suffocating dark that surrounded him. The phrase, _Can't see your hand in front of your face, _was never more true than it was at that moment. Briefly, Jay wondered if he still had his eyes closed, but as his vision began to adjust, he could make out shapes and objects. He was lying on the floor in some kind of room. Storage room? Closet? Bedroom? He couldn't tell.

Unconsciously, Jay pressed his hands against the wooden floor in an effort to climb to his feet. As he did so, he became acutely aware of a clinking sound. He glanced down in the direction of the noise, and his eyes widened in shock.

Thick steel cuffs surrounded his wrists, and a long, heavy chain connected the two cuffs together. The same was true for his ankles.

Jay's heart began to race, and a jolt of adrenaline surged through his body in preparation for a flight-or-fight response. Frantically, he twisted his hands this way and that, and tried to move them back and forth in an effort to slip the cuffs off his hands. But his hands were too big, and the cuffs were too snug. They weren't going anywhere, and neither was Jay.

"HELP!" Jay shouted. _"Somebody help me! Can anybody hear me?!" _

Faintly, he heard a door creak open, and then a collection of loud footsteps tramp down a hallway. The door swung shut, and the footsteps grew closer.

"I think we've let our newest convert sleep long enough. It's time for us to welcome him to our family."

The voice, like strychnine and honey, made Jay's racing heart nearly stop.

_Bray._

The memories returned in one big rush;

_He'd rolled out of the ring in Baltimore, following a disappointing loss to Kane. He'd hoped for better, but at this point in the game, he no longer cared. The sooner he could get backstage and wash up, the sooner he could get back to his hotel room and make his final arrangements. _

_Halfway down the aisle, Jay heard a now familiar laughter and glanced up at the Titantron. It was the last video announcing the arrival of the Wyatt family to the WWE. The lights suddenly went out, and a chill slithered down his back like a snake as he followed the referee to the safety of backstage. _

_The video ended with Bray Wyatt announcing, "We're here." The lights were still out in the arena, and a lantern was lit as Bray marched towards the ring, with his two "sons" accompanying him. The Eater of Worlds took a seat in a rocking chair near the entrance ramp and watched as Erick and Luke stormed the ring and attacked Kane. The family continued their assault on the Big Red Machine outside the ring, which ended when Erick and Luke set Kane up against a set of steel steps and slammed another set down on his head. _

_While the assault took place, Jay was taking a shower and mentally composing his suicide note (he wanted to leave one so that nobody would ask any questions later on). He stepped out, dried off and put on his street clothes, and said nothing to his co-workers as he slunk out of the arena. _

_He had no idea who was laying in wait for him as he made his way to his rental car. _

_Strong arms suddenly wrapped around Jay, pulling him backwards against a massive, muscular body that he would later identify as Erick's. His arms and legs flailed wildly in a vain attempt to escape, but the massive man in the prison jumpsuit and sheep's mask holding his arms and legs was much stronger than he, and Jay was effortlessly lifted up off the floor. Bray was pressing something soft to his face, and Jay became aware of a sweet smell filling his nostrils and a feeling of drowsiness filling his body. He desperately tried not to breathe in the fumes of whatever was on the cloth that was practically shoved into his mouth. _

_Jay's vision began to gray out as whatever was on the cloth chipped away at his consciousness. Before he completely passed out, he glanced up at the third man (he'd later learn his name was Luke) who was now standing across from him. He was younger than Jay, taller, and built like a barroom bouncer, with unruly black hair that spilled past his shoulders and a thick black beard that covered much of his face. He wore a white wife beater and a sleeveless red flannel shirt. His dark eyes were like polished stones, and...did Jay see an expression of _compassion_ on what he could see of his face?_

And did he just say I'm sorry?_ Jay wondered before darkness claimed him..._

A doorknob turned, the click shaking Jay out of his memories. Blinking, he glanced up at door as it swung open. The light from a lantern illuminated the three figures looming above him. Only one sentence was uttered, and that was by Bray;

"Welcome to my home, Jay."

(END FLASHBACK)

Jay had heard about people who could carry a whole conversation by themselves, but he'd never met one, or seen one in action. Until now. In that car ride in the old Buick with the Pollard twins, Violet at the wheel, and Bina in the backseat curled up with a pack of peanut butter cheese crackers and the Old Farmer's Almanac (Violet had to pick that up for her at Walmart so that she wouldn't get anxious), he just had to sit back and marvel at Violet, as she let her motormouth run at full RPM:

"Bina and I have only been with the Wyatts for about two months, and already so much has happened! When we and Momma and my brothers Jimmy and Frank met Bray and Luke and Erick, we were gonna get foreclosed on our house. See Daddy died two years ago—he choked on a piece of chicken fried steak at a diner where nobody knew the Heimlich Maneuver—and he didn't leave enough money in his life insurance. Just enough to cover his funeral costs, and that's it. Well, Momma got a second job waitressing tables, and I had to put my college plans on hold—I wanna go to nursing school and work with premature babies—so I could keep working. Jimmy and Frankie are still in high school, so they were giving whatever they could from their part-time work. But it wasn't enough to cover everything. Plus, Bina's an Aspie, and we needed the money for her care, and that's one thing we _don't_ skimp on—and we just got further and further behind with our bills.

"So long story short—the house is about to get foreclosed on, and Bina and I are the L & N Cafe, she's reading her weather books and talking to me about Stratocumulus clouds and Nimbostratus clouds and, and I'm playing with my cup of coffee, not really drinking it, you know? And in walks this man—he's a _mountain man _of a guy!—long hair and bushy beard. He's wearing this black shirt and this crazy Hawaiian print vest and a Panama hat on his head. _And his eyes!_ I never seen eyes so blue in my life, not even my and Bina's eyes, or Jimmy's eyes, or even _Momma's eyes! _He sees Bina and me at our booth and he smiles at us.

"My first instinct was to take Bina and split, get the hell out of there, you know? He looked like one of those creeps who wanna jam their slimy hands down my pants and cop a feel on my hoo-hah or touch my boobs. I've let boys do that to me, ones I like, I even slept with a couple. I've been off the straight and narrow more than a couple of times—all part of growing up—but this guy? Eh...no. He just looked like trouble deluxe walking into the place.

"So, I'm about to tell Bina to pack her stuff up and head for the door, but then she sees this guy, and her face just LIGHTS UP. Just lights up like a Christmas tree. Now, Bina, in spite of all of her issues, is the surest judge of character that I know of. But I'm second-guessing her at this point, and I says to her, _Now Bina, don't get any notions in your head about that guy-he looks like he's bad news. Let's go home._ But that's when she says back to me, _No, Violet! We gotta stay. He's an angel. I seen angels before, that's an angel!_

"Well, this mountain man sits down, he introduces himself, says his name's Bray Wyatt, and we start talking. Says that the Lord brought him to the L & N—he hadn't been in town proper in nearly a year, save for passing through on his way to flights in and out of Lafayette for WWE stuff—because he saw us in a vision and knew we needed help. Before I know it, the conversation turns to our house, and Daddy dying, and us about to get evicted. And if you can believe it—he offered us all a place to stay at the compound. He and Luke and Erick—they travel with the WWE like you used to, and they let the place fall into serious disrepair over the years. They needed some able bodies to clean up and fix the place and take care of things while they're travelling and stuff. It sounds too good to be true, but I didn't wanna look a gift horse in the mouth, so I said I'd talk to Momma first.

"Momma's always been a real spiritual woman. She knows the Bible forwards, backwards, sideways, upside down and inside out. She's always felt the Lord's presence in her life, and after Daddy died, she got even closer to Him. When Bina was diagnosed as an Aspie, she said it was a gift from God, because He knew that taking care of her would bless us all with more love and patience and gratitude. She said the waitressing job was sent by the Lord so that she could keep us afloat until His real plan was revealed. She prayed every night, long and hard, for the Lord to work his will, and when I came home to tell her all about Bray's offer, she burst into tears. She'd been praying for His will to be done, and when Bray showed up...well, you know the rest.

"So we all pitch in and hold down the fort. We have our own place on the compound. It's an old double-wide mobile home, but it's cozy and it's sturdy, and it has everything we need. Bray doesn't charge us rent because we take care of stuff—cleaning house, taking care of animals, working outside and whatnot—while he and his "sons" are away at work. Momma still works in town, but the money that she gets isn't for a house payment anymore. She has enough to take care of Bina's needs, as well as groceries, and all that. And for me, I'm going back to school in the fall. I qualified for a Pell Grant and work-study over in the community college over in Crowley. Which is the town we're closest to."

"Congratulations." Jay's smile was genuine. "I guess Bray was in the right place at the right time for you."

"He was," Violet beamed, her eyes still on the road as she swung the Buick into the outer lane of the highway to pass an older-model SUV. "It's almost like our lives were jump-started. I get to go back to school, Momma doesn't have to work so hard anymore, we have a new home...I don't know, perhaps it's like we were all reborn the moment Bray walked into that diner. Which kinda brings me to a question for you, Jay. Have you been born again?"

Jay thought back to the three months he'd spent with the Wyatt's. He'd been kidnapped, held against his will, chained up, drugged, and indoctrinated...or so it appeared. What had seemed like kidnapping just for the fun of it, or to expand the family, had in actuality been tough love taken to its most extreme.

Looking back, Jay realized that the months in captivity had been exactly what he'd needed to save him from himself. In his darkest hour, at his lowest and least, he realized that someone still loved him, and cared enough about him to put him in chains and prevent him from making the most egregious, most selfish decision of his life. And that moment of clarity had resulted in a powerful transformation.

Jay had no doubt in his mind whatsoever that he not been taken from that arena in Baltimore last summer, he would have taken his own life at the first opportunity. The Wyatts—Luke Harper, especially—had given him his life back.

"In a matter of speaking," he said honestly, "...yes."

~~~ANGEL~~~

The miles flew by, and soon, Jay closed his eyes and dozed off, lulled by the movement of the car and the classic rock music that played softly on the radio. He and the twins fell into a comfortable silence: While Jay napped, Violet nodded her head in time with the music, and Bina thumbed through her new almanac before she set it aside and dozed off herself.

Eventually, the car slowed down, gradually easing Jay out of a dream where he was swimming in a lake and trying to find the shore so that he could get out. He yawned and sat up in his seat. "What time is it?"

"It's almost one-thirty," Violet answered, as she swung the big car onto a side road. "About five miles outside of Crowley. Another few minutes, and we'll be home." She glanced over at the backseat, where her sister was curled up fast asleep. "Bina can sleep through a hurricane. I'll let her sleep until we get home. She was kinda wound up last night, didn't get to bed until late."

Jay nodded. "You have any plans for later?"

"Well, I have to pick up Momma from work after I drop Bina off at the house so she can watch Jerry Springer. Jimmy and Frank don't come home til' around four. I should be asking if you have any plans. Momma wants to invite you over to our place for supper. She's gonna roast a chicken. If you're interested, that is."

"Jerry Springer? Your sister watches Jerry Springer?"

"She's watched it for as long as I can remember. She says that all the guests on that show need angels."

"No doubt," laughed Jay, before he paused. "About your dinner invite? I can't turn down a free meal. Besides, it'll give me a chance to meet all of you."

"It'll be fun." Violet paused, and then slowed the car down. "Wait'll you see what we've all done to the compound. You almost won't recognize the place," she smiled, as she pulled the old Buick onto a gravel road. And there it was, the Wyatt compound: the overgrown trees, the NO TRESSPASSING sign, the white, two-story slate-roofed, weathered-looking house with the porch on each floor.

Jay had to do a double take as he gazed out the window. "This can't be right. Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"It is, and we are," Violet smirked, as she threw the car in Park. The last time Jay was here, the grounds were overgrown and unkempt, bushes were untrimmed and flower beds were overrun with weeds. The house itself had looked weathered and dilapidated, the porches overrun with junk and trash. The entryway was dimly lit and the curtains were drawn everywhere, so the place was always stuffy and dark.

Now, however, it looked so different that Jay briefly thought he and the twins were at the wrong house. The overgrown lawn looked like someone had recently mowed it. Sure, the trees were still on the overgrown side, but the bushes were trimmed, the gutters were cleaned out, and the trash had been cleared off the porches. The flower beds looked like they'd been recently weeded out. The curtains were pulled back from the windows, and the windows themselves looked clean and sparkling. The house still looked weathered and old, but with the work already done, it didn't look so run down.

Violet, who popped open the trunk, was first out of the car, followed by Bina, who practically threw herself out onto the driveway and darted off. "Sorry, Jerry Springer's gonna be on in ten minutes, and I gotta watch it!" she shouted before disappearing into a cozy looking double-wide trailer.

Jay climbed slowly out of the car and took his luggage out of the trunk, awe-struck by the transformation of the Wyatt compound. Under his breath, he sung, _"Down, brothers, let's go down. Down by the river to pray..."_

"You have a pretty decent singing voice," Violet remarked, closing the trunk and following Jay.

Jay blushed. "I didn't realize I was singing," he said, sheepishly, before he hesitated at the front door of the weathered house. "Uhmmm...is there a housekey someplace?"

Violet snorted in laughter. "Seriously? This place is out in the boonies, you think we lock our doors around here?" she asked, as she stepped in front of Jay, twisted the doorknob and opened the door easily. "You're thinking like a city slicker. _Entrez vous, s'il vous plaît..._"

The first thing that struck Jay when he entered the house was that the interior was _clean. _Not immaculate by any stretch, but far more inhabitable than it had been when he first stayed here. Sure, the foyer had an old and faded looking carpet near the front door, but it looked vacuumed. The cobwebs had been removed from the corners and the light fixtures. The windows were open, and the downstairs hallway was filled with natural light. The stairs leading to the upper floor were covered with a gray carpet runner that looked like it would do little to soften one's footsteps, but that too looked clean.

Obviously, the windows had been opened; the air in the house didn't smell musty and stale, and Jay could feel a nice breeze.

"So?" Violet leaned up against the open front door, a little grin on her face. "What do you think?"

Jay gazed around in wide-eyed astonishment. This was light years away from the house he remembered. "I'm completely blown away. It looks good."

"Doesn't it? The upstairs doesn't look too shabby, either. Bray was pleased as punch when he first saw what we all did. Took nearly two weeks, but it was all worth it. But with all the work we did, there's one room that none of us touched. It's the room at the end of the hall upstairs, to your right. Bray says that room's special, and not to go into it." Violet paused, and then her expression grew serious. "It's locked, so don't get any ideas."

"If that door's locked, then there's gotta be a good reason, right?"

Violet shrugged. "I guess so. You think you'll be okay for an hour or two?"

"I'm more worried about your sister."

"Bina can take care of herself. Springer's on for two hours anyhow. She won't go anywhere until the show's over. By that time, Momma and I will be home and starting dinner. Come over around six. You know where, right?"

"That double-wide your sister ran to?"

"That's the one," Violet said, before heading outside and back to the car. Jay followed her out. "I'll see you later."

"Drive carefully. And, Violet?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime. And welcome back."

Violet started up the big old car and drove away. Jay stood in the driveway and waved until the vehicle was just a little speck in the distance before returning to the house that had once been his prison.

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Just wanted to provide you with the series of Wyatt one-shots by theytalktome, which will provide you with more backstory:**

**Dream Of Waking**

**Everything He Says Is True**

**In The Beginning**

**Live In Fear**

**The Reflecting God**

**The High End Of Low**

**Tourniquet**

**In The Sky With Demons**

**To reiterate (I can't do this enough) I got permission to use this series as the backstory and inspiration for my work!**

**AND REMEMBER...REVIEWS = LOVE**


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Just want to explain a few things. This story is slight AU. The Wyatts still live on their compound in Louisiana, not Florida. I picked Crowley as the town they're closest to because it's small but still pretty much full service. Jay was not at Summerslam 2013 due to his captivity with the Wyatts. **

_**Chapter Three**_

_This one had it coming  
This one found a vein  
This one was an accident, but never gave me pain  
This one was my fathers and this one you can't see  
This one had me scared to death,  
But I guess I should be glad I'm not dead!_

"_Made Of Scars," by Stone Sour_

Quiet as a cat, with his luggage trailing behind him, Jay ventured cautiously down the narrow downstairs hallway. Now that Violet was gone and Bina was occupied with Jerry Springer and the angels, he was alone with his thoughts and unwanted memories. Perhaps coming home was going to be more difficult than he wanted to admit.

To Jay's right was the door to a very familiar room. Jay felt the hackles on his neck begin to rise, and he tasted copper in his mouth as he drew closer. This was the room he'd spent countless hours in when he first arrived here. It had been a hot, dimly-lit room filled with so many boxes and papers and so much other assorted junk that he could barely move around. The door was always locked, and Jay had spent hours pounding on it and screaming to be let out until his voice became hoarse and his throat and fists became sore and raw. When the lights were turned off, the room was plunged into complete darkness that forced Jay to curl up on the floor in a ball. And the words that Bray had spoken to him in that low, toneless voice—_obey, obey, obey, obey—_still echoed in Jay's head. It was a room he wanted to stay as far away from as possible—and yet he had to see it again.

Heart racing, Jay tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. Slowly, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, completely astonished by what he saw.

The room had been transformed into a small study. The junk had been completely cleared away, leaving a bookcase that was filled with books. Shakespeare. Lord Byron. Agatha Christie. Charles Dickens. Charlotte Bronte. Jane Austen. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Emily Dickinson. Louisa May Alcott. Many of them were first editions, and in remarkably good condition, and they were mixed in with religious books. The Bible. The Book Of Mormon. The Torah. _Final Quest_ by Rick Joyner. _Embraced by the Light _by Betty Eadie. _Classic Christianity_ by C.S. Lewis. Just to name a few.

There was a modest sized mahogany desk and matching chair pushed up against the now-clean—and currently open—window. A lamp on the desk provided much needed light. A rocking chair and a table with a lamp on it was situated across from the desk, creating a cozy nook in which to curl up and read.

Jay would have loved to stay and peruse the books for a while, but he needed to unpack and get settled in. Besides, he couldn't quite sit in this room to read and relax. Not when he knew what the true purpose of this room had been before its transformation:

(FLASHBACK)

"Don't touch me." Jay's voice was a whisper.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you. You'll be safe. Thought you might want something to eat."

Jay glanced up at Luke as he knelt down and set something down on the floor in front of him. A paper plate. He looked blankly at what was on the plate. Nothing fancy; a sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of water.

"You'll be alright," Luke tried to reassure Jay, reaching out to embrace him.

Mistake.

Jay squeaked and crawled away from the eager touch, the chains jangling slightly as he backed himself into a corner. "Get away from me," he warbled, hiding his face with his chained-up hands.

"I'm sorry," Luke sighed, realizing that he'd overstepped his bounds. "I know you're scared, but I promise I won't let Bray hurt you."

"Luke," Jay pleaded, softly. "You have to let me go. Tell Bray to let me go. I promise I won't get you guys in trouble. I just wanna go home."

"Bray says you're already home."

"Bray's crazy!" Jay gasped. "This isn't my home! I live in Tampa! I have to get home!" he insisted. "You have to let me go!"

"I can't do that."

"Why not? Why are you doing this?"

If it was to add to the family, for the fun of it, or simply because they could, Jay wouldn't have been so freaked out. But it was what Jay heard next that shook him to his core: "Because I love you."

Jay snorted. "Love me? You love me? That's a laugh. You wouldn't know what love was if it fell on you." He stared down coldly at the chains securing him before he fixed Bray's First Son with a look that could freeze a volcano. "You wanna love me? Well, here I am. And from the looks of things, I'm not going anywhere. There's only one reason why you'd put me in chains, it's so I can't fight back while you rape me, correct?"

Luke said nothing as he climbed to his feet; unknown to Jay, Bray had warned Luke that Jay would lash out, so he was prepared.

Jay, on the other hand, wasn't, and it only made him angrier. "You wanna rape me? I'm right here!" he snarled, raising his voice. "Come on! _Do it, Luke! Rape me! Just do it and get it over with!"_

"No," Luke said simply, folding his massive arms across his chest.

"_Why NOT?"_

"Because I don't wanna do anything to you that you don't want."

Hot-as-lava outrage suddenly boiled up inside of Jay, and he screamed. "YOU FREAK! YOU BASTARD!" he snarled. He picked up the item closest to him—the bottle of water—and hurled it at the head of Bray's First Son. Luke was surprisingly quick, and he stepped easily out of the way. The bottle bounced off the door and landed on the floor, rolling to a stop under a table. Jay glared at Luke, daring him to strike, or yell, or harm him; if looks could kill, Luke would have been six feet under.

"GET OUT!" Jay spat. "GET OUT!"

Luke did nothing that Jay had expected him to do. Instead, he shrugged, and then picked up the water bottle and set it down in front of the captured blonde.

"Eat," he said softly, before he turned and walked out, closing the door gently and locking it behind him.

(END FLASHBACK)

Jay closed the door softly as he walked out of the study. There were too many memories in this room that Jay didn't want to relive. No matter how much the room had been transformed, the trauma it invoked would always be imprinted deep in Jay's psyche.

_Like putting lipstick on a pig, _he thought bitterly as he picked up his luggage. _ Doesn't matter what you do or how you dress it up, it's still a pig._

The next place Jay decided to visit was the bedroom that he'd been forced to share with Luke. He didn't feel as apprehensive checking out the room that he'd slept in (against his will at first, but then he slept there because he wanted to) as he'd been checking out the study. Jay could vividly recall the bad times he'd spent in that room, but those memories were cancelled out by the good ones, and by the time he'd left the compound to settle his affairs in Florida, the good far outweighed the bad. And eventually, the chains that had bound Jay's wrists and ankles were replaced by much stronger ones that bound his mind and his heart.

Jay took his time climbing the stairs, noticing that the cobwebs were gone from the stair railings. As he ventured cautiously down the hall, he appreciated the fact that the hallway was no longer dark and stifling. He could vividly recall each detail of the bedroom; the queen sized antique-looking bed with the stale unwashed sheets; the nightstand and dresser, which were painted black to match the bed's headboard, the dirty windows that were covered with blackout curtains, the red desk that was covered with books, and its matching chair.

_Boy, Luke sure had his work cut out for him,_ Jay thought, as he nudged open the door. _I was quite the handful at first, but he never abandoned me. _

Once again, Jay was stunned by what he saw. The blackout curtains were removed and replaced by red curtains and window blinds. The afternoon sunlight revealed a room that was _completely clean. _The bed was neatly made with black and white bedsheets and a red cover. The desk and its chair, the nightstand, the headboard, and the dresser had been dusted. The windows and mirrors were clean as well. An empty laundry basket sat on the floor, at the foot of the bed. And the smell in the room wasn't from unwashed linens or dirty clothes. _Is that peppermint?_ Jay wondered, his nostrils tingling at the scent.

He sat on the bed, bouncing up and down on it a few times to ensure that it was still sturdy. It was, and Jay swung his legs over so that he could lay back. He shut his eyes, drifting off into another memory;

(FLASHBACK)

"Ow!" Jay hissed and flinched as Luke swept away the blood from the new cut above his eyebrow.

"Jay, you have to stop provoking Bray," Luke admonished him, gently. "All he's trying to do is teach a lesson, and when you sass him like you're doing, you're only hurting yourself."

Jay folded his arms over his chest, the chains dangling from them clinking softly. His eyes stared down at a spot on the floor. "I could care less. Bray can beat me bloody, and I still won't join him. And if you're listening to him, then you're just as much a crackpot as he is."

Luke flinched at the harshness of Jay's words. It had been two weeks since Jay had been taken captive, and he was proving to be a tough nut to crack. Nothing that Bray had taught was getting through to the older blonde's strong willed-mind. His personality and bluntness and fire were just three things that Luke liked about Jay, but those qualities had gotten Jay into trouble with Bray from the get-go, and they were doing more harm than good at this stage.

"I wanna go home, Luke," Jay pleaded, softly.

"Home to what?" Luke asked him. "A lonely house, and empty suitcase, and your cats? If you're worried about your cats, don't be. I'm sure that whoever you have watching your place is taking care of them. They wouldn't be so callous as to leave them alone."

"What about my friends? They must be worried sick about me."

"Nobody's said anything about your absence. JBL and Cole are making some bad jokes about your absence on the air, and if I'm not mistaken, Vince is probably feeding them those lines. You know how Vince feels about you. He hates you. And as far as your friends go, Bray made you give them up the night you arrived here."

"Doesn't mean I can't miss them and worry about them."

"Jay, they turned their backs on you the moment they became famous," Luke pointed out. "You know that, I know that, Bray knows that, and everyone else around you knows that. The reality is, you have nothing to really go home to." And Luke was right about that. He'd figured that out the first time he'd shadowed the veteran superstar while he was at home;

_He'd observed Jay from behind a tree in the backyard while he was fixing supper. From his vantage point, Luke was able to catch quite a few details. Jay looked domestic and content, but lonely as he stirred a pot of something that simmered quietly on the stove. On the counter was his cell phone; Jay reached over and picked up the phone to check for messages...but he put it down just as quickly as he'd picked it up. Obviously, nobody had the time to call Jay; they were too busy with their own lives to worry about him._

_A small gray cat jumped up nimbly on the counter to attract her owner's interest. Jay scratched her gently behind the ears and petted her head before he began to set the table for his solitary meal. Luke watched the quiet scene from the safety of his hiding place, feeling a twinge of sympathy._

_If only Jay knew that he wasn't alone. _

Jay cast a sideways glance at Bray's First Son. "Why, Luke?"

"Why what?"

"Out of everyone you guys could have picked to chain up and preach to, you picked me. Why?" Before Luke could answer, Jay added, "And if I hear you say it's because you love me one more time, I'll rip your eyes out. And I don't give a fuck if I'm in chains or not."

"There is another reason. Bray knew from the moment he first lay eyes on you that you were destined for something special."

"Whatever," huffed Jay, before he curled up on the bed, his back turned. A full minute of uncomfortable silence passed before Luke climbed off the bed and walked out of the bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

(END FLASHBACK)

Jay sat up and clutched the pillow he'd been resting his head on to his chest. _Not even gone a day, and I already miss him,_ he thought. But he and the others would be back later tonight, perhaps early, early morning. And while he couldn't nestle in his lover's arms at the moment, Jay could press the pillow to his face, inhale his lover's scent, think back to the first time he'd allowed Luke to touch him intimately.

And he could replay the words he'd uttered that night from the bottom of his heart; _Remember what you said to me after Bray brought me back up here? You didn't want me to say _I love you _unless I absolutely wanted to say it, and unless I absolutely meant it. __Well...I absolutely want to say this, and I absolutely mean it. I love you, Luke Harper._

After a while, Jay set the pillow down and got off the bed. He needed to get unpacked.

It didn't take Jay very long to get settled in; traveling light had its advantages. Jeans, pants, shirts, undergarments, shoes, a couple of nice suits—just in case—and his personal items (toothpaste, razor, and the like). He brought his study books, his laptop, his cell phone, and the necessary parts that went along with them. Jay didn't expect that there'd be any wifi out here, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Perhaps the Pollards, with two high-school age sons and two college-age daughters, would have something out of necessity.

Jay had everything unpacked and stowed away in less than an hour. With that out of the way, he decided to change his clothes. A fresh pair of pants, a shirt he absently pulled out of the closet, and a pair of broken-in work boots. He fixed his hair in the mirror on the dresser, scruffing his fingers through it so that it would stand up some. Jay felt comfortable, casual. This wasn't some fancy soiree he was attending. He was going to supper at the home of a group he would now consider part of his family, so there was really nobody he wanted, or needed, to impress.

With nothing to do until supper time, Jay decided to gather a couple of his books, as well as a notebook and pencil, and head back downstairs to study in the kitchen. No doubt there'd be some changes there. _If the kitchen's half as clean as the rest of the place, _Jay thought, bounding down the steps, _That would be a huge improvement. _

Jay was not disappointed. The kitchen was just as clean as the rest of the house. There were no modern conveniences—no microwave, no dishwasher—but what was there looked to be clean and in decent nick. The kitchen table, its matching railback chairs, and the cabinets had once been glossy white, but they hadn't been painted for several years (that would be the next big project while Jimmy and Frank were off on summer break, Violet had said earlier during the car ride). They were faded to a yellow-white now. The walls were painted dark green, and the chintz curtains were clean but faded.

In the icebox, Jay was pleasantly surprised to find a pitcher of iced tea. He found a clean glass on the dishrack near the sink and filled it before taking his place at the kitchen table.

In the quiet kitchen, Jay read through a chapter of _Final Quest _and took notes while he sipped his tea_, _his only company being the gaudy Kit-Cat clock on the wall. Its tail swayed back and forth in time with its googly bejeweled eyes. After supper, he decided, he'd try to catch up on the Seven Diamonds Plus One study. _I might as well. I have nothing planned,_ Jay thought, with a slight grin, as he put his glass in the sink and returned to the table to collect his books. _No commitments, no matches. I could really get spoiled by all this spare time. _

_Click, click, click...CREEAAAK...SLAM!_

The comfortable solitude was rudely interrupted by what sounded to Jay like an intruder. Jay got up so suddenly, his chair fell over. His heart unexpectedly began to race, and a coppery taste filled his mouth. _When did I become so hypervigilant? _Jay wondered in confusion. To his ears, it sounded like someone was breaking into the place.

And whoever was breaking in was now headed down the hall and through the dining room to the kitchen.

_But why would anyone wanna break into this place?!_ Jay glanced over his shoulder. His panicked eyes caught sight of a cast-iron skillet sitting on the stove. Every nerve in Jay's body shouted, _Fight! Defend yourself! _as he wrapped his fingers around the handle of the skillet and scrunched himself up against the counter right next to the fridge. Whoever was intruding on Jay's solitude would seriously regret it if Jay had his way.

The footsteps drew closer.

_Closer...closer..._Jay counted ten thumps of his heart and then leaped through the doorway, skillet in hand. Both he and the intruder screamed, and the intruder backed into the kitchen door.

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Yeah, it's a cliffhanger, but I'll make sure to resolve that ASAP. BTW, Jay is experiencing a phenomena known as hypervigilance, which is a symptom of PTSD, and it refers to the experience of being constantly tense and "on guard." **

**REVIEWS = LOVE**


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Not a whole lot to say about this chapter, though it will resolve the cliffhanger. **

**DISCLAIMERS: Not my characters (except for Anna). This story is a continuation of sorts of the Wyatt one-shot series written by theytalktome on FFDN. I received permission to use the stories as the basis for this one (I can't stress this enough!).**

_**Chapter Four**_

"_There are no coincidences in life. What person that wandered in and out of your life was there for some purpose, even if they caused you harm. Sometimes, it doesn't make sense the short periods of time we get with people, or the outcomes from their choices. However, if you turn it over to God he promises that you will see the big picture in the hereafter. Nothing is too small to be a mistake."_

― _Shannon L. Alder_

"What the hell!" barked a young female voice. "You just about gave me a heart attack!"

A young woman stood in front of Jay, tiny and waiflike, wearing faded denim overalls with a green and pink plaid shirt underneath and white sandals on her feet. Her tied-back spill of honey-blonde curls tumbled well past her shoulders, and her face was scrubbed pink. And at the moment, her fresh-scrubbed face wore a fierce scowl.

"I...thought I heard someone break in," Jay offered, sheepishly.

The young woman snorted. "Seriously, you think anybody's gonna try to break into _this_ place?"

"Well..." Jay felt a blush rising in his cheeks as he put the cast iron skillet back on the stove. "I assumed that I was the only one in the house, and when I heard someone opening the front door, I...kinda panicked."

The young woman's expression softened as she stepped into the kitchen. "You could have given me a concussion with that frying pan you were fixing to hit me with," she said, as she opened the icebox door and pulled out a can of Cherry RC Cola. "But I have to admire your moxie and your ability to think on your feet. Even if the frying pan was an unoriginal weapon of choice." A pause, and then the young woman smiled pleasantly enough. "I'm Anna."

"My name's Jay."

"You look and sound familiar. Wait a minute..." One of Anna's blonde eyebrows cocked in recognition. "Jay Reso. You're Luke's Angel, aren't you? AKA Christian, AKA Christian Cage. Am I right?"

"What gives you that idea?"

"He talked about you so much that I feel like I know you already. I've seen you on Smackdown and RAW on You Tube, so I know what you look like. And, you're wearing one of Luke's shirts, so that's a dead giveaway."

"Oh." Jay glanced down at the red sleeveless shirt he'd thrown on and blushed yet again. What was so odd about this girl that made Jay feel like he was so unprepared and inexperienced? "I guess it is," he shrugged, setting the fallen chair upright and taking his seat again at the table. "Bina thinks I'm a real live angel."

Anna chuckled as she pulled up a chair and sat across from Jay. "Bina thinks _everyone's _an angel. Once she gets an idea in her head, it's almost impossible to get it out of her head. But that's what makes her so unique. And the angel thing fits with what Bray's always preaching, so none of us try to discourage her." Anna popped open her can of Cherry RC. After taking a long, cold drink out of it, she asked, "So, I take it that the rumors about your eminent retirement are true?"

"Unless Vince decides to dress me up like some idiot superhero or put me in a match against midgets, I guess the rumors are true."

"Oh, perish the thought!" Anna gasped, trying to keep a straight face. "You already did your tour of duty dressed as a bad superhero and a chicken mascot! And if I haven't seen you with a midget, then it's probably 'cause I haven't gotten caught up yet. How much dignity do you have left?"

"Not much. Remember Jericho and me getting our clothes stolen by the Dudleys?"

"I think I was six at the time. And I know that was _not_ your jar of Ass Crème." Anna and Jay laughed riotously. "I'm surprised you survived in the business as long as you did. You'd think they'd give you a nice sendoff."

"Just as well, though," Jay shrugged. "The last tour of duty I had there was less than stellar. I'm actually glad I'm not there anymore on a regular basis."

"Well, retired or not, it's good to have you here."

"I..." Jay had to pause for a moment. "I guess I'm happy to be here too." He let a long sigh escape his lips, deciding that it was absolutely imperative to change the subject. "Did you guys hire a professional to help you guys clean the place up? Compared to what it looked like before, it looks like a palace."

Anna snorted and shook her head. "You think a professional did _this?" _she asked, jerking a thumb towards the kitchen doorway. "You think too little of good old fashioned elbow grease. The girls and I rolled up our sleeves and cleaned this place up from top to bottom ourselves. In fact, that was the first thing the Pollards and I did when we all moved out here this past February. Our way of telling Bray thank you."

With a grin, Anna explained:

_Anna had brought mops, pails, brooms, scrub brushes, sponges, rags, and bottles of cleaner to the Wyatt compound. She went down on her hands and knees with Violet, Bina, and Roselle, to scrub the floors and windows and walls, the corners, and around the edges, and under furniture. The work had been hot, hard, and demanding, but the girls laughed and chatted and listened to the classic rock station on the radio that Violet had brought in while they worked._

_In a week of hard labor, the house was as clean as three young women and and one middle aged woman could possibly get it. Then, while Frankie and Jimmy worked on the outside, picking up trash, cleaning out gutters and whatnot, the girls set off bug bombs in every room of the house (with the exception of the room at the end of the upstairs hall) to kill any bugs that had hidden during the big cleanup. The dead spiders, flies, and crawlies were swept up by the bucketfuls. The girls tossed them out of a back window, and a big rainstorm washed the critters into the gutters. Then the birds found the carcasses and gorged themselves while the girls sat and watched from an upstairs window. _

_The girls didn't see any mice or rats, but they did see droppings. Violet guessed that the vermin were waiting for all the commotion to settle down before venturing out. So, to keep them away, she and Roselle soaked cotton balls in peppermint oil and placed them in the corners, under the beds, in the doorways, and in the closets. _

Jay let a grin tweak across his lips. "So _that's _the peppermint I'm smelling."

"It is. You have to refresh it though, every week, so the mice don't come back. I don't mind doing the work, neither does anyone else around here. It's easier to stay on top of keeping the place clean than it is to let it accumulate and then completely clean it out like we all had to. A little less busywork." Anna took another sip of her RC. "And speaking of busywork, what are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"Well, Violet and her mom have invited me to dinner at their place. You're welcome to tag along if you want. I don't think they'll mind an extra dinner guest."

"I'll have to pass on that offer. I have work tonight. I do data entry part time at the big rice mill in town. It's a pretty good gig, pays well for a four-hour shift. I tried applying for work at the L & N, but they aren't hiring cooks at the moment."

"Bray lets all of you work?" Jay cocked an eyebrow in bewilderment.

"Someone has to pay the bills and keep up around here. Bray and Luke drove trucks before they entered the WWE, and Erick was a hired hand here. So was Luke after he quit driving for a living. They all work in the WWE now, and it would be a huge double standard if Bray forbade any of us to work. A lot of the stuff you hear on TV when you watch them is exaggerated. It's Bray with the volume up."

_Bray with the volume up, _Jay thought bitterly to himself. _You don't know Bray as well as you think you do, little girl. _

Anna finished her RC and got up from the table. "And speaking of cooks, I think we should put something together for the boys. I know they're just over in Lafayette, but with their taping schedule, not to mention washing up, interviews and all that, they won't be here until almost midnight."

"Maybe we can make them some sandwiches," Jay suggested before got up to follow Anna.

"I'll just make chicken salad, in case they all get here late and hungry," Anna said before she began to pull things out from the kitchen cabinets. A bowl, a rubber scraper, a can opener, a knife, and a wooden spoon. She continued, while she reached for an onion that sat on the windowsill. "Pretty simple, really. Just mix the mayo with canned chicken and add a few goodies. Chopped up pickles and some onion works pretty well. I'd add shredded carrots, but Bina's the only one who likes carrots in her chicken salad. She's just really picky like that. If you can get me the jars of mayo and sweet pickles out of the icebox, that'll be a huge help. And I can't reach the upper shelf where the canned chicken is. Can you get two cans out for me also?"

Jay and Anna got to work fixing the chicken salad, each of them falling into a comfortable silence. Jay noticed that Anna cleaned things up as she went along; consequently, there was very little that would need to be washed when the two of them were finished.

"You definitely know your way around a kitchen," Jay finally said, as he watched the petite blonde chop up some sweet pickles. With practiced skill, she scraped out the contents of the cans of chicken into the bowl and added the pickles and some chopped up onion.

Anna cocked a glossy eyebrow at Jay as she emptied half a jar of the mayonnaise into the chicken/pickle/onion mixture and began to stir it up. "You don't know me at all, do you?"

"Well, from the looks of things, you live on the compound, and you and the Pollards are holding down the fort while the boys are away."

"There's plastic wrap under the sink, can you bring that to me? Thanks." Anna covered the bowl of now-finished chicken salad and placed it in the icebox. "There, finished. We leave this out, and instead of being curled up in a nice warm bed sleeping, we'll all be curled up in the bathroom puking our guts out. Come on. I wanna show you something..."

~~~ANGEL~~~

"...When I was still in grade school and junior high, I would go to the diner that Emilyn—she's my foster mom—worked at and do my homework or read," Anna explained, as she and Jay headed up the stairs. "I usually got a free bowl of soup or slice of pie or a soda pop out of it. When I got older, I started working there as my first job. At first I bussed tables, then I started working in the kitchen doing prep work. I became a pretty good short-order-cook by the time I graduated high school."

It was now late afternoon, and the upstairs hall was lit by two high-wattage bulbs in a ceiling fixture. The oak floor creaked softly as Anna and Jay tread across it. To Jay's left was the room that he and Luke shared, Bray's bedroom, and the upstairs bathroom, the doors to which stood open; no lights were on back there. At the end of the hall, on the right, was a door that was painted white. Anna opened this door and flipped on the lights.

The lights revealed a room that was clean and in good repair. There were flower patterned shades and soft pink drapes over the windows. In the middle of the room was a queen sized bed upon which a bedspread of pale green with lavender and white flowers was draped. The walls were papered with a striped pattern of white, pale green and soft pink. The furniture—a wardrobe with a full-length mirror, a nightstand, and a dresser—was whitewashed, like the door. A rug with multiple colors in the pattern was draped across the floor rather haphazardly. In the corner was a whitewashed rocking chair upon which a plump red cushion with tiny white flowers lay.

"I've never seen the inside of this room before," Jay marveled. The décor didn't completely match, but somehow it felt _right. _"It feels like I'm on sacred ground."

"It's Abigail's old room. Bray kept it up after she died. He wanted to give the room to someone he thought was worthy of it . When I showed up on his doorstep this past February, he decided I was worthy."

"If you don't mind me asking...what's so special about you that Bray would give you Abigail's old room."

"Short answer...I'm her younger sister."

~~~ANGEL~~~

"_She taught me... She taught me from the young age. She said 'You gotta get them before they get you'. 'A rattlesnake's skin is the same color as leaves', she said. And we all understood her. She led us with love, but she told us that the fires, well, they are our friends, too. 'The world is an evil place', she said. And we agreed. And I was there. I was there when she took her final breath. She pulled me in close, and she said 'You're the one'. She said 'They chose you, long before you were ever in existence'. And I understood what she meant. Her touch... could save the world, but her kiss burns it to the ground. I love you, Sister Abigail."_

_-Bray Wyatt from cagematch dot net 8/26/13_

It felt like the world had just ground to a halt after Anna answered Jay's question. There'd been no doubt about her existence; this room had been off-limits, and Abigail's very name had been spoken with reverence around the compound. There had been trinkets and pictures all over the place that either belonged to her or reminded them all of her one way or another. But to actually see her (or at least her sister)? It was beyond overwhelming.

"Jay? Jay? _Jay!" _

Jay blinked and realized that Anna was waving her hand in front of his face. "Close your mouth before you start catching flies."

"I'm, uh...sorry," Jay stammered, blushing. "I'm just kinda thunderstruck."

"Obviously. You can sit down, Jay," Anna chuckled, as she sat down on the bed and patted the space to her left. "Don't worry, none of this will crumble into dust."

Jay did some arithmetic in his mind as he sat down on the bed. If Anna had arrived in February, then she would have arrived immediately after his return to the WWE. About the same time the Pollards arrived, give or take a few days.

Anna got back up and fumbled through her dresser before pulling out a large tin with faded pictures of cookies on the sides and lid. "Emilyn suggested that I keep all my treasures in here so they don't get lost," she explained, opening up the lid. She pulled out a bracelet made of glass beads, a tiny baby rattle, a lavender hair ribbon, and stacks of faded letters and postcards wrapped with rubber bands before she found what she was looking for.

She pulled out three photographs and held them out for Jay to see. The first picture was of two little girls in white dresses sitting on the sidewalk. One had blonde hair, the other had light brown hair. The blonde girl was grinning goofily for the camera, and the darker haired one had her little face set in a scowl. "The darker haired one is Abigail," Anna pointed out. "This was taken when I was three and she was five."

The next picture was of a more clean-cut Wyatt. He still wore the black shirt and Hawaiian print vest, but his hair was considerably shorter, and his beard was not as bushy. It was hard to imagine Bray without his crazy hair, and Jay had to do a double take. "When I showed up on Bray's doorstep, I didn't recognize him until I saw his eyes," Anna laughed, before she showed Jay the last picture.

The scowling little girl had blossomed into a fresh-faced, smiling young woman. Her light brown hair framed her porcelain fair face in soft waves that spilled past her shoulders. Her eyes were big and sparkling blue, the kind that drew you in and kept you enthralled. She had a kindly look about her, one that made you feel like you knew her all your life, even if you'd met her for the first time.

"This is the last picture I have of Abigail," Anna sighed, before she put the pictures away. "And it's my favorite one." She paused before she sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. "So, you wanna hear about my sister and how she wound up becoming Sister Abigail? Let me warn you...it'll be a long story, so I hope you're comfortable and ready to listen."

Jay stretched out sideways across the bed. The mattress was hard, but comfortable. "I'm ready. Tell me everything..."

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Hmmm...looks like Abigail's origins may not be as spectacular or extraordinary as everyone wants to think they are. And as far as the "Bray with the volume up" idea goes? Suffice it to say that it's going to apply to Abigail as well.**

**REVIEWS = LOVE**


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed this work. I know this is out of many readers' comfort zones, but I'm glad you're all giving this a chance. And while I'm thanking you all, please make sure to check out theytalktome's work on this site as well. I think she'd really appreciate the readership:)**

**DISCLAIMERS: Not my characters (except for Anna). **

_**Chapter Five**_

"_And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them."_  
― _Lucy Christopher, Stolen: A Letter to My Captor _

_...Abigail and Anna grew up in an abusive home. They'd been removed from their biological parents and made wards of the state, each placed in separate foster homes. Anna was an intelligent little oddball who grew up with frazzled foster parents (her foster dad was a truck driver, her foster mom was a waitress, and they both worked long hours). In spite of being a latchkey kid more often than not, she was reasonably well-behaved and well adjusted, buoyed by the letters that Abigail managed to send her each month._

_Abigail, on the other hand, had difficulty dealing with authority figures; she'd been through a dozen foster homes and ran away almost as many times. Finally, she'd been placed in a group home/school for at-risk teens. In spite of her inner turmoil, she managed to assure her little sister that they'd be reunited one day._

_Abigail became involved with the Wyatt's completely by happenstance. It was early summer, and Abigail and another friend had run off with a trucker named Bray Wyatt. After dropping the friend off at her home, Bray and Abigail continued on. What started out as a ride blossomed into a friendship, and eventually, a romance._

_The weeks passed, and Bray and Abigail grew closer. Bray took Abigail to the compound to introduce her to Luke and Erick. The compound had belonged to Bray's family, and Bray inherited it after his uncle's death from cancer. Luke and Erick had been hired hands who stayed on after the older Wyatt had passed on, and they shared Bray's odd religious philosophies. It was here, among this collection of oddballs, that Abigail found a place she belonged._

_Bray and Abigail continued on, traveling on Bray's trucking routes. The two of them enjoyed each other's company, and Bray treated Abigail well. Abigail would send Anna postcards and letters that spoke fondly of Bray and his "sons," and their time spent on the road. It had been one of the happiest times in Abigail's life._

_That however, came to a screeching halt when Bray was pulled over in a random traffic stop. A state trooper asked Abigail to get out the truck, and she cooperated. When she gave the trooper her license, it triggered a missing persons report. Abigail pleaded with the trooper to let her stay with Bray...but it was no use. The trooper compromised...he would let Bray go if Abigail left willingly. Realizing she was over a barrel, Abigail returned to school._

_Up until that fateful day, things had been good for Abigail school wise. She was behaving herself, and was due to graduate in a few months. Because of her adventure, however, Abigail was now considered a flight risk, and was watched more closely by the school staff. However, she managed to smuggle letters out to her sister to send to Bray. It was obvious to those around Abigail and Bray that the two were still in love with each other. Soon, Abigail decided that she was going to look for Bray and run away with him again._

_Finally, on the first day of spring, Abigail and some other kids from the school were dropped off at a nearby mall to watch a movie. To Abigail's good fortune, there were no counselors or other chaperones around to watch the group. When the time came to pick everyone up, Abigail wasn't there. She had run away again, this time to a nearby truck stop, where she had hitched a ride with a friendly trucker, who'd given her money for food and other items before dropping her off at another truck stop. Abigail and Bray had been separated for months and Abigail looked forward to seeing him again. If she didn't see Bray, she decided, and then she would hitchhike to Louisiana, and eventually make her way to the compound._

_Abigail spent several hours at the truck stop the Good Sam had dropped her off at making calls to her friends, letting them know she was safe. She even tried to call Bray, but only got an answering machine. Eventually, she hitched a ride with a long-distance trucker, a married man with three children and a pregnant wife at home. The trucker drove Abigail across state lines and pulled off for the night so that he and his passenger could get some rest._

_While Abigail got ready for bed, the trucker fudged his log books to cover for the few hours he needed to do what he was planning. His pregnant wife at home was no longer attractive to him, and he wanted to have some fun with the pretty girl in his truck._

_As Abigail stretched out in the sleeping compartment, the trucker pounced. A violent struggle followed, but Abigail managed to drive a hard knee into the trucker's groin. He was stunned long enough for Abigail to strike him in the head and knock him out with a hard, heavy object she found under the bed; it had been a baseball bat that, ironically, the trucker kept in his cab to defend himself from crooks._

_Abigail grabbed her shoes, her coat and her purse, and rushed out of the truck, refusing to look back. She ran for nearly three miles before a friendly young mom on her way home from the late shift at work found her near an exit ramp and gave her a lift to a bus station. After hearing her story, the mom gave her money for a bus ticket to Louisiana._

_Three days after she escaped the school, she appeared on Bray's doorstep. They embraced, and it was like they'd never been apart._

_The two of them "married," once Abigail was of age, and soon Bray and his new wife, whom he'd christened "Sister Abigail," began life at the compound. They moved into the whitewashed bedroom; it had belonged to Bray's late aunt. There, they consummated their relationship and grew closer than ever. Abigail kept the place clean and cooked for her "boys," as she now affectionately called them, and wrote her sister every week. In a few years, Anna would be old enough to leave the foster system, and join the Wyatt's on their compound as part of their extended family. Anna would also be able to meet the new baby that Abigail was now expecting._

_However, the happiness was shattered on the day Abigail was supposed to deliver their child. She went into hard labor and struggled for several hours. Had Abigail known that she was one of those women who were not intended to get pregnant or give birth, she and Bray would have been much more careful. But she didn't know, and they weren't careful, and tragically, she delivered a stillborn baby boy before dying in Bray's arms._

_What was supposed to be a joyous occasion had been a double tragedy._

~~~ANGEL~~~

"...Bray tried to keep in touch, but eventually the letters slowed down, and then stopped altogether. At the time, I was still too young to travel on my own. I kept all the letters in the cookie tin. Emilyn said that letter writing kept me out of trouble, so she and Boyd—he's my foster dad—didn't see anything negative about it. Besides, my fosters thought it had been a bad idea to separate me and Abigail, so the letters were a way for us to stay connected."

Jay sat back up. He'd gotten so comfortable on the bed that he was about to fall asleep. "So how'd you wind up here?"

"Bray spiraled after Abigail died. He became a recluse of sorts. From what I heard, he quit his job so he could spread his philosophies. Then, he and the boys got the gig in the WWE, and you know the rest.

"Now, at the same time, I was fixing to graduate from high school, and I was going to be aged out of the foster system on my eighteenth birthday. And that scared me because neither of my bio parents, nor any of my blood relatives, wanted me back. I was terrified that I'd be thrown out on the street. No matter how well a foster family treats you, you always have that in the back of your mind. But, on my eighteenth birthday, Boyd and Emilyn unofficially adopted me. Maybe they weren't the greatest parents in the world, but Boyd and Emilyn Wallace were my family for fourteen years. They said that I'd lived with them for so long, they thought of me as their own daughter and considered me part of their family."

Jay nodded in understanding. Sometimes blood ties did not a family make.

"As my adoption/birthday present," Anna continued, "Boyd gave me an address. See he'd pulled some strings at his trucking company to find Bray for me. When Bray and Abigail sent the letters, they had no return address, just a postmark from Lafayette. The address I sent the letters to while Abigail was in school was a P.O. box. So Boyd tracked Bray down for me and provided me with his physical address. He and Emilyn also gave me some money they'd saved up for me from the first day I went to live with them. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get me here and situated, and it kept me afloat until I got the job at the rice mill."

Anna chuckled. "You should have seen the look on Bray's face when I showed up on his doorstep. He looked like he'd seen a ghost at first, but then I told him who I was. Believe you me, Bray tried to treat me like freakin' royalty my first night here, but I said no. If I was part of the family, then dammit, I was going to stay here and work like I was part of it."

"I can see the resemblance between you and your sister."

"It's the eyes. We have the same eyes." Anna climbed off the bed to put away the cookie tin. "Well," she said, turning to face Jay and folding her arms across her chest, "Now that I've given you my life story, not to mention Abigail's, I think it's time you shared yours. How'd you wind up here and become Luke's Angel?"

Slowly, almost dreamlike, Jay climbed to his feet and approached the window. Pulling back the drapes, he gazed through the glass at the outside, across the mowed lawn, the flower beds that were neatly tended, the Pollard's double-wide. He noticed the Buick in front of the double-wide; Violet was back from picking Roselle up from work. While he was staring out the window, he let Abigail's tragic story replay in his head.

Abigail hadn't been some mythical religious leader. She'd been a troubled teenaged girl who'd fallen in love with a truck driver with odd religious views. She and Bray had risked everything—their jobs, their freedoms, the law—just so they could be together and happy. And just when they'd found their joy, it was cruelly ripped away. Reeling from a double tragedy, Bray turned to his religion for comfort and idealized the woman he'd loved to the point that she'd become a mythical being. Bray's religion in turn became a coping mechanism to keep him from dealing with his loss. Admit that you lost your wife and baby in the same day, and it becomes real, and something to deal with.

No wonder Bray was the way he was.

Jay let his gaze settle on a very familiar prefab shed that looked almost out of place amid the older buildings. It was where Bray conducted his sermons. Before Jay knew it, he could suddenly smell mold and dust, fog and swamp water, concrete and steel, dampness and mud and wildflowers. He smelled blood and sweat and fear. It was the scent of memories.

His memories...

(FLASHBACK)

"...Everyone thinks that my message is nothing but a pack of lies, and the ravings of a lunatic mind, and that all I want to do is watch the world burn down. And yeah, that's right. I do want to watch this world burn...the same way a farmer watches his spoiled crops burn so that they rise up again. This world, this poisoned, sick, twisted world must be burned down so that it can be reborn, into something more vibrant and godly.

"But once it's reborn, amen and hallelujah! Once that poison is drained and the sickness is healed, we can all celebrate and take part in the bounty of the new world.

"Rejoice in great joy and exalt in exceeding exaltation and gladden your heart with overflowing gladness. Look, a wedding feast of fine things is prepared, even the bounty of Heaven and Earth; yea, sweet fruit in a rainbow of abundance, as sweet and healing, as delicious and delightful as the love of El and the fruit of the Tree of Life, ripened by the glowing and shining sun under the sapphire blue sky of heaven; see it is the Righteous Government of Heaven that ripens the fruits of the earth.

"Yea, and behold upon the banquet table golden loaves of sprouted grain bread piled high, well baked and sweet as honey, and as nourishing and delicious and healing to the soul as the Bread of Life and the Staff of Life and the Wheat of Gathering and Saving grown upon the Emerald Green Earth of Eden and ripened in amber waves of grain.

"Yea and behold, sparkling Ruby Red Wine, well refined from the True and Living Vine and as sweet and delightful to the soul as the love of El, and as healing and strengthening as the Pure Doctrines of the Atonement and the Judgement Seat of Yeshua Hamashiach. Yea and behold, beside the wine, crystal clear spring water, sparkling like Diamonds of Light and Truth and Love, even the Pure Testimony of Yeshua Hamashiach flowing eternally in his True Church, even as Living Waters from the Fountain of all Righteousness, springing up into Eternal Life.

"Yea, come, come and partake, all you that hunger and thirst after Righteousness and be filled, and hunger and thirst no more forever. Yea, come and eat and drink that which is good and be satisfied in the abundance of your souls pleasure."

A loud, derisive snort interrupted Bray's joyous message. Bray's expression turned from joyful to steely as he stared down at Jay, who was trying to hold in his laughter. He was unsuccessful, as his giggles flowed out of his mouth like bubbles in a glass of soda pop.

The Eater of Worlds glared at his captive. Bray was down to his last nerve...and the blonde veteran was getting on it.

"Vibrant?! Godly?" Jay snickered, as he rose to his feet. Luke and Erick stared at him, like he'd just sprouted horns and a tail. Shamelessly, he locked eyes with the blue-eyed "spiritual leader" and approached him, the chains on his ankles dragging behind him. "You call this place vibrant and godly?! Looking around at this dump, you could have fooled me."

Cat-quick, Luke rose to his feet and stepped in front of Jay, a wall of protection between the angry leader and the man he was hopelessly in love with.

Bray would have none of that, not today, not tomorrow, not anymore. "Luke," he warned his First Son, in a stern voice that left _no room_ for argument. "Get out of my way." When Luke hesitated, Bray shoved him aside and then came face-to-face with his defiant captive.

Unlike the First Son, Bray didn't hesitate. He backhanded Jay hard across the face before the defiant blonde could so much as blink. Jay's head whipped to the side, and sparks crossed his vision. Luke made a move to protect Jay, but an icy glare from Bray actually made him step backwards a few paces.

The Eater of Worlds grabbed Jay by the chin and forced him to follow his furious blue gaze. "So..." he hissed. "You don't think this place is vibrant and godly? You don't see the miracles at work here?"

"Well," Jay snorted, refusing to be cowed. "I guess this place to you is all vibrant and godly. But then you're a lunatic, so maybe _everything's_ vibrant and godly to you. And any miracles at work are all in your crazy head."

Bray narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low, calm voice that was downright scary. "I've heard it all, Jay. _Bray Wyatt, he's a psycho. He's a lunatic. He's crazy. Don't you follow Bray Wyatt, he's a nut! _Well, I know another man everyone called a psycho. A young carpenter's son, and what did he do for you? Well, let's get one thing straight. _I'm not him._ In fact, I'm _nowhere near him. _I'm not a man at all. I'm the nagging conscience of a world that throw itself away to mere monsters. I'm everywhere, and I'm everything."

Without thinking, Jay fired back. "That just proves my point. You're nothing but a FUCKING PSYCHO!"

That was it! Snarling, Bray responded with a belting whack against the side of Jay's head that made the older blonde stagger and yelp in pain. Instinctively, Jay threw his arms over his head to protect himself. Bray lunged forward, and with a speed and strength that was almost inhuman, he grabbed the chains that bound Jay's hands and used them to sling his captive across the room. Jay crashed to the floor in a sprawled, chain-entangled, and disheveled heap.

A torrent of angry, wet tears streamed down Jay's cheeks as he tried to crawl to his knees and catch his breath. Bray wouldn't allow that; he kicked Jay in the ribs with a steel-toed boot, and Jay collapsed, clutching his side in pain.

"NO!" Luke tried to rush over to the fallen blonde but the sheep-masked Erick held him back in a rock-iron grip. "LET ME GO! DON'T YOU HURT HIM!"

"HOLD HIM!" Bray ordered Erick, his voice sharp. He glanced down at Jay, and then locked eyes with the First Son. "Luke, go back to the house and stay there until Erick and I come back."

"What are you gonna do to him?" Luke dared to ask.

Bray drew closer to his First Son. "He needs to learn that this is now his home, Luke. He has to learn to listen and understand what I teach, with no backtalk. And he needs to know to respect and obey me," he explained, gently. "You've been letting him get away with too much, and it stops now."

"Don't hurt him," Luke pleaded, softly.

Bray placed a fatherly hand on Luke's shoulder. His voice was kind, but firm. "Luke, you've been much too soft with him. You should have taken a harder stance with him from the beginning, but you didn't, and it's come down to this. If you want Jay to be part of this family, then you have to let me do what I must.

"I know how important he is to you, and I know he's my gift to you for your loyalty and hard work. And we all know that's he's more important to this world than he thinks. Luke, Jay is destined for something special. I knew that the moment I first laid eyes on him, but he doesn't know it. He refuses to see it. It's gonna take some time, but when I finish, he will have no doubt in his mind. And you'll have his undying love and devotion and respect as well. But you have to trust me. _Do you trust me, Luke?"_

After a moment of silence, which was interrupted by Jay's whimpers of pain and gasps for breath, Luke nodded. "I trust you."

"Alright, then. Go to the house and stay there until Erick and I come back."

Erick let go of Luke who turned and walked slowly out of the shed. Before he stepped through the open doorway, he turned to look at Jay one last time. A look of terror crossed Jay's face, and the captive blonde mouthed, _Help me!_

A look of regret crossed Luke's face. _I'm sorry, _he mouthed back before he walked out.

In the house, Luke paced the kitchen floor, imagining what kind of punishment Bray had in store for the man that he'd wanted as his lover. It didn't take long for Luke to figure out what was in store for Jay; he could hear the distant crack of a whip, and screams of pain that could be easily identified as Jay's. Luke flinched, like _he _was the one receiving the punishment.

Bray's assurance, _When I finish, you'll have his undying love and devotion and respect. But you have to trust me, _repeated in Luke's mind as he put his hands over his ears to drown out Jay's screams. He had to trust Bray, but he also feared for Jay's safety...as well as his sanity.

(END FLASHBACK)

"AAACK!" Jay shouted in surprise and jumped. The gentle hand that had touched his back felt like the sting of Bray's whip, and it made him recoil and back into the window. Heart racing, he whirled around to see Anna with a surprised look on her face.

"Jumpy, Reso?"

Jay blushed; he imagined that his face had just turned as red as his shirt. "I'm...I'm really sorry."

"I was trying to get your attention for a while now. You had a thousand-mile stare in your eyes. You alright?"

"Yeah." Jay pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Just coming back and seeing the place again, then hearing about Abigail and what happened to her. Kinda overwhelming, you know?"

Anna nodded, though she wasn't totally convinced. "It is, huh?" A pause. "So, you wanna tell me how you and Luke wound up an item? You don't seem to be the kind that would capture Luke's fancy. So there has to be something extra special about you that drew my brother-in-law and his boys to you."

The silence that followed Anna's question was uncomfortable. Jay pressed his lips into a tight line as he thought of a good answer. He couldn't think of one. How could he really explain his attachment to the Wyatts without demonizing them in the process? Yes, Jay knew they'd kidnapped him, but was it kidnapping if he'd been planning to kill himself and the Wyatts, in their unconventional manner, had stopped him? He knew he'd been held here against his will, but was it being held against his will if the chains that Bray put him in kept him from taking his own life at the first opportunity? And Jay knew he'd been beaten, whipped, and slapped around, but was it because the Wyatts were sadistic, or was it because he was being disrespectful and mouthy, and the blows that were struck were merely to discipline him?

And were Bray's words meant to brainwash Jay? Or were they promises of a bright and beautiful future full of potential and joy if he just cast aside his old self and become a new and vibrant being? _If I wasn't destined for something special, _Jay thought to himself, _Then what would be the point of them taking me like they did?_

_And if they didn't do what they did, I never would have met the man I love so much. _

_I can't jeopardize that! _

_I can't break Luke's heart! I can't betray Bray. _

_Never!_

_They're family. All of them here—even the ones I haven't met yet._

_I'm so confused._

Finally, Jay lifted his head and met Anna's inquisitive blue gaze. His answer was just two words:

"It's...complicated."

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I kinda feel like I cranked out the last part of this chapter on Autopilot. Let me know if it sucked or not. **

**The origin of Bray's sermon is controversial. If you're interested in where I got it from (the parts that aren't from cagematch dot net, anyway!), feel free to PM me or leave a message with your review.**

**SPEAKING OF WHICH...REVIEWS = LOVE**


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Quite a bit is going to happen here, much of it in Jay's mind. I can't stress this enough...in spite of all the good Bray did for Jay, it still left him with some serious damage, as you will soon see. **

**DISCLAIMERS: Not my characters, except for Anna and the Pollards as I imagine them. Special thanks to cagematch dot net for their extensive promo database, and another thanks to theytalktome for her Wyatt one-shot series.**

**Rated T for some F-words sprinkled here and there and violence.  
**

_**Chapter Six**_

_"Have you heard the good news...the earth is rotting beneath your feet...the human race is a bacteria that infects and destroys...He needed me. He needed me! [laughs]...fate works in strange ways...He was lost! ...she dances and sings in the light, she lurks in the shadows and she always gets her way...Now, he has a home. YOUR WORDS MEAN NOTHING TO HIM NOW! He only hears... my truth. Now, he has a home."_

_Bray Wyatt, WWE Smackdown, 1/3/14_

When six o'clock rolled around, Jay was taking notes while reading through _Final Quest_ and glancing out the living room window every so often. Anna was gone; she'd left for her part time job in a short-bed, magenta colored Ford truck that looked too big for her to drive (it was her daily driver, she'd insisted with a laugh). Earlier, Jay had heard the rumble of another vehicle (probably Jimmy and Frank home from school or their part-time jobs, or whatever it was they were doing).

Jay let himself get acclimated to the noises and sights on the compound, which was why he didn't freak out when he heard a knock on the front door. He'd actually heard Bina singing in a clear, high voice as she walked up to the front porch. _"...Studying about those good old days and who shall wear the starry crown? Good Lord, show me the way..."_

He got up and opened the door before Bina could knock a second time. A slow smile spread across his face. "Well. Hi, Bina. You look quite lovely tonight."

"It's a special occasion," Bina explained, artlessly. "It's not often that a real live angel comes to dinner. I wanted to look my best." And she looked prim and proper, dressed in a sleeveless periwinkle blue blouse and white capri pants. Her pale blonde hair was put up in a ponytail, and she had on a touch of makeup. "And Momma always tells me, don't forget to be kind to strangers, because because many of us may have been kind to an angel without knowing it."

Jay stepped out onto the porch, closing the front door softly behind him. "Well, I'm not a stranger now, am I?"

"No, but you're an angel." Jay had to chuckle at that. He didn't think he was _that_ angelic, but he wasn't about to argue.

"And I wanted to ask you..." Bina glanced down at her sandaled feet for a moment, and it occurred to Jay that she was trying to get her courage up. He wasn't as patient as Violet was, but he waited as quietly as he could.

Finally, the shy blonde glanced up at Jay, her eyes wide. "Would...would you be so kind as to walk me to my house?"

Jay couldn't stop the grin that tugged across his lips. Bina was quite charming, in her own blunt way. "Well, Miss Bina, I'd love to walk you to your house," he answered back, as Bina slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. The two of them stepped off the porch and walked down the gravel pathway that ran across the Wyatt compound, with Jay escorting Bina the way a proper gentleman should. It was a pleasant walk; the clouds in the horizon were tinted pink by the sun, which was just beginning to set, the air had just enough cool bite to it to remind one that it was still spring, and the distant music of singing birds and buzzing insects provided comfortable background noise.

"See that patch of wild strawberries over there?" Bina asked, pointing off to the distance with a slender finger.

Jay smiled, letting some very pleasant memories play in his head. "I see it. Luke and I picked a lot of strawberries out of that patch."

"That's where Abigail and her baby are buried," Bina said, bluntly.

Jay shuddered. "I've been picking berries where someone's buried? That's kinda creepy." He paused. "So I assume you know all about Sister Abigail, right?"

"It's not like it's a huge secret," Bina shrugged. "We just don't talk about it outside the compound. Bray said that the patch wasn't there before Abigail died. The month after she and the baby were buried, the strawberries suddenly grew there. Almost like they'd appeared out of thin air. And you know something? No matter how many berries you pick out of that patch, it never runs out. It's like they grow back overnight. I kinda think it's Abigail's way of saying I love you."

"Still it's kinda weird that a strawberry patch suddenly appeared where someone's buried."

"Well, if Abigail didn't want you at her gravesite, then there'd be poison ivy or a nest of copperheads or something like that growing there. She wouldn't put strawberries there if she didn't want you visiting her, right?"

Jay had to laugh. "That's actually a good point."

A good distance away from the strawberry patch, perhaps fifty feet or so, stood a rickety-looking building. It was a shed that was an original part of the property. It had once been white, but it was now so weathered that bare wood showed in multiple places. Whatever paint remained was either peeling or almost transparent. There was a white metal door that you slid up to open, but that too looked weathered and beaten as well.

Jay tensed up involuntarily. This was where Bray had dragged him to after he'd mouthed off one time too many. It had been a garage where farming equipment had been stored. The equipment had been sold years ago, leaving plenty of chains and hooks and other assorted contraptions that Bray had put to good use. The building had been a dark, silent place, with no light and a cold concrete floor to which Jay had been chained for hours at a time. It was solitary confinement, interrupted only when Bray measured out his discipline and Erick stood like a silent, sheep-masked sentry to ensure that their captive had no chance to escape.

Compared to that cold, dark, terrifying hell, the house and the shed had been a palace. But deep in his heart, Jay knew that had he not been so defiant and mouthy in the first place, he never would have had to be dragged here...

(FLASHBACK)

"Pull up your shirt, Jay."

Jay's breathing was shaky, a side effect of the adrenaline surging through his body. He shook his head and mouthed the word _No._

"PULL IT UP!" Bray shouted. "Or else I'll have Erick tear off all of your clothes."

Jay's hands shook so hard, the chains dangling from them actually jingled. They were long enough for Jay to reach up and pull the stained and torn workshirt he wore up so that his bare back was exposed. A faint breeze brought goosebumps to the exposed skin.

"Please," Jay gasped, daring to glance at the Eater Of Worlds. "Don't do this! I'll be good, I promise. I won't run. I'll listen to you, I'll do everything you tell me, please don't hurt me, Bray! I'm sorry-"

"SILENCE!" Bray roared. Jay let out a sob and shut his eyes, hating the hot tears that leaked from his eyes and trailed down his cheeks.

"I can read your intentions like a book, Jay. If I let you go now, you'd pretend to be good for a while, and then mouth off again, maybe run off. And I know exactly what you'd do afterwards, and believe you me, that's the last thing I want to have happen. You have pushed me far enough. You need to realize that actions have consequences. It's time now for you to face the consequences.

Bray's voice softened, and it sounded almost fatherly. "Jay, I don't want to do this to you, but because you've pushed me time and time again, you've left me with no other choice. And I need you to know we're going to punish you. And it's gonna hurt. A lot. But remember this. What I'm about to do to you will hurt me just as much as it'll hurt you. And I don't care if it kills me, I promise I'm going to prove to you that you're just like us. And in that moment of serenity I will take all the pain away, and you'll understand what I've been trying to do for you."

More clinking of chains; before Jay knew it, his arms were now up over his head and secured to a hook that belonged to a heavy duty hoist, the kind used to lift large engines out of tractors and combines and such. He glanced down and noticed that his feet were secured to either side of the hoist on the bottom. With his hands and feet secured and his back exposed, it was easy for Jay to guess what would happen next. The soft sweep of something across his back confirmed his guess. He'd never felt so vulnerable and scared in his life.

"As I said earlier, Jay. Actions have consequences," Bray explained, letting the tip of the leather whip drag across Jay's exposed skin. "And for your disrespect and your selfishness, your punishment will be thirty lashes." He drew closer, his voice softening. "This is for your own good, Jay. I hope you'll understand"

Jay let out a hoarse sob.

He heard the whip before he felt its sting, a high-pitched whistle through the air followed by a sharp, short _crack! _The end of the whip streaked across Jay's back just deep enough to leave a welt. Jay screamed; the pain was like a sharp lash of fire across his skin, a sensation he'd never wanted to feel in his lifetime, and one he wanted to forget. Jay didn't know how long he'd been flogged. He'd lost track of time after the tenth blow of the whip. When it was over, his back was covered in welts. Most were bright red, puffy temporary scar tracings that would settle on their own. But many more were open and bloody.

He screamed in pain, he screamed for mercy, and he screamed for Bray to stop.

But deep down, a voice was telling him, _You brought this on yourself._

(END FLASHBACK)

"Jay!"

Jay broke out of his harrowing recollection and glanced over at Bina, who had her hands on her hips and an odd look on her face. "You alright? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I, uhmm...I thought I saw Abigail," he stammered. "Up in the trees. She was wearing a flowered dress and I swore she was looking right at us."

"I see her too sometimes," Bina nodded, but there was a knowing expression in her eyes. "'C'mon. Dinner's gonna get cold if we don't hurry..."

~~~ANGEL~~~

(JAY POV)

_Roselle Pollard was the kind of person you'd picture in your mind if someone mentioned the word _Momma_. The kind of woman you'd see sitting in a rocking chair, humming to herself while she knitted a sweater or worked on some elaborate needlepoint project. The type you'd find in a brightly flowered house dress and a white apron, dropping neat spoonfuls of cookie dough onto a cookie sheet or perhaps mixing a cake. _

_She was middle aged, probably in her early fifties, and robust, vital, with strong features and good color. Her hair was short and stylish enough, and the same Nordic blonde as her daughters' hair. She had a sweet, kindly smile that put you right at ease. Here, that was something I desperately needed. _

_Her older son Jimmy was a physical brute; massive arms and shoulders, broad chest, long, muscular legs. His face was all hard planes and angles, and physically, he reminded me of a young Brock Lesnar. That is, until he smiled. That's when the generous, sweet smile of his mother would spread across his face and light it up like a Christmas tree. His hair was blonde, almost white, and his eyes were wide and blue (also his mom's contribution). Everyone over in Crowley knew him as a kindly soul who'd gladly help out a friend or neighbor in need. _

_Where Jimmy was the gentle giant, Frank was the agitator, practically daring you to knock off the chip he permanently carried on his shoulder. Frank was his polar opposite; shorter, stockier, and more round. His dark hair was always in need of a comb, and he had a perpetual smirk on his face. His eyes were so dark, they looked almost black. His nose was crooked; the result of a few fights in town. Frank took on after his late father...right down to the pugilistic attitude. _

_The people in town often thought Violet and Bina could find work as models, but Violet, of course, wasn't interested in that kind of thing; she wanted to become a nurse and work with premature babies, and Bina, with her Asperger's, would freak out from all the bright lights and noise. Besides, Bina preferred to spend her time at the library, reading about clouds and weather, or at home at the compound, either watching Jerry Springer or studying the Bible and poring over Bray's teachings. _

_Roselle set out a hearty meal—roast chicken, boiled potatoes, green beans, macaroni and cheese, pickles, coffee, and cookies-and we all dived into it eagerly. The day had been eventful-and everyone was very, very hungry._

_Before I knew it, it was ten o' clock. I would have stayed all night if given a chance, but it was a school night, and the boys needed to get to bed. Bina insisted on walking me back to the house. Briefly I wondered if Bina would be alright by herself going home, but she insisted. I'd been her angel when I helped her at Wal-Mart, so she was gonna be mine and make sure I got home safely._

_Anna had been right about Bina. Once she got an idea in her head, it was impossible to get it out of her head. Not that I minded. It's difficult to make a simple walk from one house to the next when you feel like there's walls closing in on you, or you worry about someone behind you who's waiting for the opportune moment to take a swing at you._

_It was during that walk back to the house that I realized how much I missed Luke, and the security I felt when he was around. But if I was to continue on my life journey, then I had to learn to live without him constantly at my side._

(END JAY POV)

Later, back in the red and black bedroom, Jay was getting dressed for bed. Anna was home from work and already in bed, and Jay didn't know how soundly she slept, so he tried to keep the noise down.

He stepped into a pair of soft lounge pants that looked like a pair of old ripped jeans, pulled his sleepshirt on, and wrapped his arms around himself as he crept quietly towards the bed. Most would laugh at Jay's choice of sleepwear, an oversized, faded black t-shirt that came down almost to his knees. It was enormous and it hung on Jay's slender frame like a trash bag, but he didn't care. He didn't wear it because of how it looked on him. He wore it because of what it meant to him.

Luke had given the shirt to Jay after he'd bathed him following the days he'd been disciplined, and Jay clung to it like it was a security blanket. It was soft, it was comfortable, it was comforting. And best of all, it smelled like Luke; the warm, wood-smoky, faintly musky, slightly sweaty scent was imprinted on every inch of fabric. On the nights that Luke wasn't with him, Jay could slip the shirt on and breathe in its scent and feel like he was there in spirit.

Jay climbed into bed. The clean, soft bedclothes felt almost sinful. He reached over to turn off the bedside lamp and lay back, letting his head touch the cool, clean pillow. Jay inhaled deeply, breathing in Luke's scent, which lay beneath the smell of detergent and fabric softener. Slowly, he let his eyes close and attempted to drift off to sleep.

Sleep, however, would be harder to achieve than he thought...

~~~ANGEL~~~

_"They've been lying to you, man. There ain't no such thing as a hero! Not anymore... But you, and everyone else around you, have become addicted to the illusion of what a hero is. You have become addicted to the illusion of what a hero does for you. You think you need someone to pat you on the back. You think you need someone to talk you in bed at night, kiss on you on the cheek and tell you that everything is alright. But everything, everything, everything, EVERYTHING IS NOT ALRIGHT!"_

_-Bray Wyatt, Monday Night RAW 7/15/13_

(FLASHBACK)

"Your ravenous behavior draws me to you, but your refusal to listen and obey me is testing my patience. The clock's ticking, Jay. You need to understand that I don't want to watch you suffer, but in my world there is no such thing as a happy ending. There are no fairy tales. I'm not gonna take you up to Daddy's house and roll you down a field of dandelions. This story ends the same way it started: Destruction. Destruction of your old self.

"And I need you to know we're going to bring you right to the limit to what you can endure. And then, we'll shove you past it. _Hard. _I don't care if it kills me, or if it kills Erick. I promise I'm going to prove to you that you're a monster, just like me. And in that moment of serenity I will take all the pain away... Join us! Join us, Jay!"

Jay shot the Eater of Worlds a glare that could take paint off a wall. "Go fuck yourself."

WHAM! Bay made a hamlike fist and belted Jay in the face. Jay's lip busted open and a coppery taste filled his mouth. He nearly gagged on the blood that bubbled down his throat.

Bray glared down at the defiant blonde who was now chained securely to the floor in the middle of the garage. His voice was cold and stern. "I'm afraid, Jay, that I have no mercy left to give. It could have been different, it could have been better, it could have been perfect. Well now, this is your fault. You gotta understand that it didn't have to be like this. All this pain, all this suffering..._you_ brought this all on yourself. Your insane notion of wanting to kill yourself? There's no way in Hell I'm gonna let you do something so fucking selfish. Not when you have so much left to give this world."

"You have no fucking idea what I've been through!" Jay spat, blood spraying from his mouth.

Bray fell to his knees so that he was eye-level with his captive. "Don't think I didn't know what you were planning in Baltimore," he snarled. "I watched you _long before _Luke fell head-over-heels in love with you. You were gonna jump off your hotel balcony. We'd already mapped out how we were gonna take you. Even if you'd somehow made your way out of the arena after your match with Kane that night, you never would have made it to the hotel lobby, let alone made it back to your hotel room. We wouldn't have allowed it. You're too valuable to me, you're too valuable to us, and Luke would never forgive me if you died on my watch."

Jay felt a chill shudder through his body that had nothing to do with the coldness of the garage floor. "How...how long have you all been watching me?" he whispered in shock.

"Long enough for me to keep you from making the biggest, most selfish mistake of your life," Bray answered simply, as Jay hung his head in shame and fear.

"Suicide's an unforgivable sin, Jay," Bray pointed out. "And I'm gonna punish you for your selfishness. I want you to open your eyes." Swiftly, Bray grabbed a handful of Jay's hair and pulled his head up. "Open your eyes and look at your dismay! Open your eyes, Jay!"

Jay had no choice but to open his eyes. Bray continued, his voice rising. "This is the end of your old life! If I have to wrap you in chains for the rest of your days and beat you to a pulp to save you from yourself, then DAMMIT, I WILL! YOUR OLD LIFE IS OVER, JAY! SO YOU'D BETTER GET WITH THE FUCKING PROGRAM!"

"Take your best shot, you freak," Jay hissed back, his teeth stained red by the blood from his split lip. "You'll never break me."

Bray let a sly grin play across his face. "We'll see about that," he purred, the softness in his voice more of a threat than his loud bellowing.

(END FLASHBACK)

...Jay gasped and sat upright in bed, his heart racing, and his palms sweaty. Tremors ran throughout his body, and for a moment, he forgot where he was. _Calm down! You're not in the garage anymore! You're safe and in bed! Steady! Deep breaths! _ he told himself, pressing his damp palms against the bedclothes and willing himself to relax.

Once his pulse stopped racing, Jay glanced around. The moon was shining through the window, bathing everything in the room in a cool, silvery glow. The moonlight cast long shadows on the furniture, making things look otherworldly. It almost felt like the shadows were arms reaching out to grab something—or someone.

And was it Jay's fevered imagination, or were the walls _closing in on him?_

"No...no," he whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. "This isn't the garage. I'm not in the garage. I'm in bed, I'm safe, Luke's gonna be home soon. I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm safe."

It became a mantra. _"I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe..." _Jay's voice trailed off when he realized that his reassurances weren't working. A growl of frustration left his lips as he reached over almost angrily and flipped on the bedside light. The creepy shadows disappeared, and the walls were back to where they were supposed to be.

Jay flopped onto his back and draped his hand over his forehead. _I can't take another sleepless night if it's gonna be like this!_ he realized, before he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled to his feet. Careful not to create any more disturbance than necessary, he ventured cautiously down the hall to the bathroom. A mixed scent of cleaning products and peppermint tingled his nose as he flipped on the bathroom light and staggered inside.

_There's gotta be something in here that can help me get to sleep! _Jay thought, fumbling through the medicine cabinet. There was toothpaste, toothbrushes, combs, razors..._ah ha! _A family-sized bottle of Benadryl.

Jay let a slight smile play across his face. A time-tested allergy pill with the added benefit of inducing drowsiness. _Well, they're not supposed to be habit-forming, _he thought, shaking out three pink capsules and swallowing them. He filled the plastic cup that was sitting on the sink with water and emptied its contents in two gulps.

On legs that felt like spaghetti, Jay made his way back to the bedroom. In the softly-lit room, Jay could see another problem. The bed was in the center of the room; its position reminded Jay of the harrowing days in the garage. The chains that had bound Jay by wrists and ankles were long ones that were connected to a heavy-duty eye bolt that was secured tightly to the floor. They'd been long enough to where Jay had some freedom of movement, but not long enough for him to reach a corner or a wall where he could take refuge. Consequently, he was fully exposed to Bray and Erick's unique brand of discipline.

_But as long as I'm close to a wall, _Jay thought, as he approached the bed, _I'm safe. _

_Anna, I hope you're a sound sleeper._

Jay blinked, feeling a wave of drowsiness. The Benadryl was beginning to have an effect, so Jay knew he had to work quickly. The bed, although queen-sized, was not terribly heavy. Bracing his feet firmly on the floor, Jay put his hands on the side of the bed and pushed it across the floor until it was nearly flush with the wall on the right side of the room.

_At least nobody will be able to sneak up behind me, _he thought with wry amusement before he climbed back into bed. Wrapped up in the covers, with his back facing the wall, Jay closed his eyes and let sleep wash over him like an incoming tide...

~~~ANGEL~~~

_"One day you meet someone and for some inexplicable reason, you feel more connected to this stranger than anyone else-closer to them than your closest family. Perhaps this person carries within them an angel-one sent to you for some higher purpose; to teach you an important lesson or to keep you safe during a perilous time. What you must do is trust in them-even if they come hand in hand with pain or suffering-the reason for their presence will become clear in due time."_

_-Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure _

(FLASHBACK)

"Tic, toc, tic, toc, tic, toc, tic, toc... Boo! Hahahahahahaha...

"I don't mean to keep hurting you like this, Jay... but how many times must you cross this burning bridge before you realize, that you're fighting a losing battle? My poison is already running through your veins. You know who we are, Jay. And before long you will finally realize what you are. Hmmm... join us!"

Jay turned his head in the direction of Bray's voice. How long had he been here? A day, a week? A month perhaps? No matter. Time had lost all meaning, with hours, minutes and seconds bleeding together without any boundary or limit and becoming a huge void. Bray had stripped him of his charisma, his will to fight, his freedom... and now he was a hollow vessel, or a blank slate.

Bray and Erick had brought Jay to his absolute limit...and then shoved him past that. Hard. Beating, drugging, being forced to listen to the Eater of Worlds launch into a sermon about everything and anything and nothing...all of it had worked to chip away at what and who he thought he was and what he thought he held dear.

Jay's nose ran, and he wiped it on the sleeve of his shirt. He winced in disgust at the sharp, unpleasant smell embedded in the fabric. After wearing the shirt and pants for days on end, Jay wanted to rip the filthy garments from his body and burn them.

He knew his body wasn't much better either. His face was pale, haggard, bruised and covered with at least a week's worth of stubble. His lips were cracked and split, bleeding. His hair was a greasy blonde scarecrow on top of his head. The chains around his wrists and ankles left the skin beneath them scraped and raw. _If some Hollywood director needed an extra for a horror movie, _Jay thought in sour amusement,_ I'd certainly fit the bill!__ What I wouldn't give for some hot water and soap r__ight now! It's a miracle I haven't gotten bitten by insects or developed an infection from all the cuts and marks on me._

"What if I was to tell you, that the man who made you, the man that created the persona that you hid behind for the better part of two decades, is a liar? What if I was to tell you that your friends, your fans, and even your own flesh and blood turned their backs on you? You listened to them, followed them like a mindless lemming rushing out to sea. How far have they gotten you? How far have you got listening to them? Come on, let me show you what you can be! Come on, Jay! Come on, what are you waiting for? The world is awaiting outside.

"I'm not like Vince, Jay. I'm not like your so-called friends who dropped you when they all grabbed that brass ring of fame and fortune. I will never turn my back on you, and maybe, just maybe, the answers you seek have been slapping you right in the face. And maybe, just maybe, I, Bray Wyatt, the Eater Of Worlds, have been the answer all along."

Bray's words sounded almost hypnotic in Jay's fevered mind:

_You listened to them, followed them like a mindless lemming rushing out to sea. Come on, Jay! Come on, what are you waiting for? The world is awaiting outside._

_How far have they __gotten you? _

_How far have you got listening to them? _

_Come on, let me show you what you can be! _

_I will never turn my back on you, and maybe, just maybe, the answers you seek have been slapping you right in the face. _

_And maybe, just maybe, I, Bray Wyatt, the Eater Of Worlds, have been the answer all along._

_I will never turn my back on you, and maybe, just maybe, the answers you seek have been slapping you right in the face. _Now that Jay had been removed from everything he'd been accustomed to, Bray's words were beginning to make sense. Yes, he _had_ listened to his so-called friends, and yes, they'd dropped him after they'd become famous. Yes, he'd followed the masses like lemmings rushing out to sea, only to drown in the end. Yes, he gave and gave and gave to others and got nothing in return. His so-called friends took and took and took from him, leaving him with nothing.

And now Bray Wyatt, in his twisted way, wanted to give Jay everything. And in that moment of clarity, while chained to the floor in the middle of a cold, dark, lonely garage, Jay realized that he had nothing to lose.

And everything to gain, twisted as it was.

"You're... You're right," Jay whispered, lowering his head.

Bray was caught slightly off guard by Jay's unexpected admission. A grin tweaked across his lips; was his captive finally breaking? "Say it again! Say that again!"

"You're right." Jay's voice sounded flat, deflated, as a cold reality began to seep through his bones. "You're right. You were always right. No matter how hard I worked, no matter how loud everyone cheered for me, you were always right. My friends, Vince... they held me down. Vince will always hold me down, no matter how loud everyone chants, no matter how hard I fight." Jay paused, and his eyes narrowed in bitterness. "They've shouted my name in every venue I've ever been to, they've sung my praises time and again, and Vince doesn't give a fuck. Everything I've done, every drop of blood and sweat and tears, every injury, every word, everything...it don't mean jack to him."

Bray carded his fingers through his captive's lank hair. His voice was soft. "I see you for what you really are, but Vince and everyone else, they look at you like you're some broken-down horse on its way to the glue factory. I see you as a catalyst. An agent of change. An angel in the dirt. A monster like me, afraid of nothing and nobody. Together, you and I and my brothers and sisters, we can tear the walls off of this place. Together, we can bring the machine to its knees, Jay."

Jay, who was still lying on the cold floor, lifted his head to meet Bray's intense gaze. "I have nothing left, Bray. I'm yours. I hurt. My body hurts. My soul hurts. Everything hurts." Jay paused, and then he licked his cracked and pale lips, tasting blood on his tongue. When he spoke again, he sounded almost like a little lost boy. "I don't wanna hurt no more. I don't wanna fight anymore. I just wanna come home. I'm yours."

Bray pulled a key out of the front pocket of his pants and undid the lock that attached the chains dangling from Jay's wrists and ankles to the bolt in the floor. A sigh escaped Jay's lips as he brought his hands and knees to his chest.

The Eater of Worlds stretched his hand out, beaming like a proud papa. "I always have a home for you, Jay."

Jay reached out with his own hand, intending to grasp the hand of Eater of Worlds. But at the last second, Bray jerked his hand away and kicked Jay in the ribs, sending the captured blonde toppling sideways onto the cold concrete floor. He stepped back several feet and spread his arms out to the side, like a crucifix. "Not so fast. I wanna be sure you're serious about this, and you're not just blowing smoke up my ass. Cause if I find out you're lying, Jay, your suffering will be LEGENDARY! And don't think I won't figure it out, because I will. So, you wanna join us, be one of us?"

Bray paused, and watched Jay nod his head. "That's not good enough. I wanna hear you say the words, Jay. Do you wanna join us? Do you wanna be one of us?"

An excruciating silence passed, and then Jay met his captor's fierce blue gaze while he struggled to his knees. Anyplace—anything—would be better than the hell he was locked in at the moment. He just wanted the pain to go away, and wanted the punishment to stop. "I thought I already was one of you."

"Then you better start crawling. Crawl, Jay! C'mon! Crawl!"

Jay half-crawled, half dragged himself forward slowly, laboriously, on his hands and knees, his breath coming in pants and grunts, punctuated here and there by tiny whimpers of pain. His abused body screamed in agony, the chains behind him dragging and jangling quietly. Bray stood only ten feet away from him, but to Jay, he was miles away. "Is this what you want?" Bray shouted, in an odd form of encouragement. "Is this what you desire? I will give it to you. You wanna become one of us, Jay? Well, I'm right here waiting! I'm right here waiting! Come and get in! I'm right here! Come on. You're waiting! What are you waiting for? What are you waiting for? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, JAY? COME ON!"

It took some time, but eventually, the beaten blonde managed to reach Bray, and he grabbed a handful of Bray's pants to pull himself up to his knees. His broken blue gaze locked with Bray's as he held his own arms out to the side. Bray crouched down and wrapped his arm around Jay's chest. Jay was aware of big fingers brushing aside a greasy lock of his hair.

"Welcome to the family, Jay," Bray told him, kissing his forehead.

Before Jay was able to register anything else, he felt his back slam hard against the cold floor once again. The breath rushed out of his body and stars spattered his vision, making the figures of Bray and Erick looming above him almost sparkle. He would have giggled if the situation wasn't so dire and if the wind hadn't been knocked out of him.

It occurred to Jay that Bray had used his finishing move on him, and on a cold garage floor no less. A groan escaped Jay's lips as a new pain bloomed in his back like a big, ugly flower and spread through his limbs and joints. As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, he felt something dissolve inside him like salt dissolving in water. It took a moment for him to realize that it was what was left of his will to fight.

Bray sunk to his knees and gripped Jay's hand. "This is forever," he barked. "This is going to change everything."

Jay nodded faintly. "Forever," he whispered back, past the point of caring.

"So, pop quiz. Who do you belong to."

Jay parted his lips, his voice sounding strange, hollow. "...You...I'm yours."

"Good boy. And what are you? I just told you a few minutes ago, and I'm sure your memory isn't so short that you haven't already forgotten it."

"I'm a catalyst," Jay whispered. Bray's poison was spreading, slowly, sweetly through his veins, slipping seductively through every molecule of his body and changing everything it touched. "An agent of change. An angel in the dirt. A monster like you."

"Good. Next question. Where do you live?"

"I live here," Jay answered. It felt like he was not in his body, and he was watching and listening to someone who looked and sounded like him. "This is my home."

"Next one. What do you do when I'm around?"

"Obey."

A radiant smile spread across Bray's face, making him look like the twisted angel that he was. "Now you understand, Jay. I did what I had to do so that you could be reborn into who you are meant to be." Bray smoothed the disheveled blonde hair from Jay's forehead. "You're one of us, now. You're right where you belong. Welcome home."

"Obey...obey..." Jay's voice was a whisper as he felt himself drift away. As he did, he heard Bray sing the chorus of something that sounded at that moment like a lullaby:

_"There's a place in the meadow,  
a place you can hide.  
Walk with the reaper,_  
_leave this world behind..."_

(END FLASHBACK)

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: *Gives Jay muse a hug and some warm milk* I think the sooner he deals with the after-effects of his captivity, the better. How do you expect him to be a catalyst and an agent of change if he can't look after himself properly?**

**Wasn't too sure about that final scene between Jay and Bray in the garage; it was too short for a full chapter, so I figured that it would be another flashback/dream sequence. I know there's been quite a few of them, as well as POV changes, and I hope I haven't confused any of my readers. **

**In the next chapter, Jay and his "family" reunite, and he remembers when he finally saw the light...sort of.**

**REVIEWS = LOVE**


	7. Chapter 7

**NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I've decided to split this story up into three books. The first one is predominately from Jay's perspective. The second one, which will debut sometime next week, will be from Luke's perspective and will tell the story of how he and Jay evolved from captor and captive to caretaker and infirm, to friends, and finally to lovers. The third will be from Bray's POV, and how he and his disciples attempt to spread his message to a world desperately in need of change. **

**The first story has been re-titled Angel In The Dirt, Book One: Break Me**  
**The second story will be titled Angel In The Dirt, Book Two: Heal Me**  
**The third one will be titled Angel In The Dirt, Book Three: Save Me**

**Thanks to everyone who has read, favorited, and followed this work. You'll be reading more very, very soon:) And thanks again to theytalktome on FFDN, AKA Valiumforaviper on Deviant Art, for her body of work and the one shots that inspired me to create this series (Go and read them when you have a chance! I think she'll appreciate any feedback):**

**Dream Of Waking**  
**Everything He Says Is True**  
**In The Beginning**  
**Live In Fear**  
**The Reflecting God**  
**The High End Of Low**  
**Tourniquet**  
**In The Sky With Demons**

**AND AS ALWAYS...REVIEWS = LOVE**


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